Fate
by roseateglow
Summary: Not quite a year after the surivors of Oceanic Flight 815 are rescued, Jack recieves a late night phone call. It's Kate and she needs his help. Post rescue & future fic. Some spoilers, although certain aspects of the show did not happen in this AU story.
1. Jack: Of All the Gin Joints in the World

**JACK**

Jack cursed loudly. The phone was ringing again. _Didn't these people ever sleep?_ He thought as he rolled over in bed to glance at the digital clock: 5:21. He groaned. Nearly a year after their rescue and people were still calling for an interview with the "hero" of the island. That was something Jack blamed Hurley for, although he couldn't have known the impact it would have had that day they'd disembarked from that tramp steamer and Hurley had grabbed Jack and told all the reporters and everyone else gathered around the dock that Jack was the hero, the man who had saved all of their lives. Then, Jack had been touched. Now, however, he was irritated. He didn't really blame Hurley; it was the reporters that got on his nerves. They'd called him so often he'd had to move and change numbers. Apparently, that didn't stop them. His mother was getting calls so often she had her number changed and privatized. And yet the phone never stopped ringing.

Jack wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but he was getting sick of these calls. He picked up the receiver and yelled, "Look, I don't know who you are or how you got my number, but all of you reporters and paparazzi need to quit calling me. I'm sure you've got something more important to cover, so tell all your buddies to take me off whatever list you're all passing around and LEAVE ME ALONE."

He moved to hang up the phone, until he heard a woman's voice, barely a whisper, saying: "Jack?"

It wasn't a voice he recognized at once, but it wasn't the voice of a reporter, he knew that much. He frowned. Was this one of his old patients? But who would call at five in the morning and why? "Hello? Who's—who's this?"

The other person uttered a strained laugh. "Don't you recognize my voice? Then again, it's been a year and a half; maybe you've forgotten. Do I sound that different?"

"I—don't understand." He thought of Claire, wondering if she'd forgotten the time difference. But he'd only just talked to Claire two weeks earlier, asking how she and Charlie and Aaron were doing, when the new baby was due…Shannon? No, Shannon wouldn't call Jack. They hadn't been in contact since Charlie and Claire's wedding almost a year ago. It couldn't be Rose either; her voice was deeper than this fragile whisper. Kate—that was impossible. Kate would still be in jail…

"It's me," The voice said, coughing slightly. "Jack…it's me. It's Kate."

There was a long pause. Then, "What—Kate, I thought you were—you know…"

"I broke parole," she said simply. "I just need a place to stay, and I looked up your number…Jack, listen. I—I did it again."

"Kate…"

"I couldn't help it. I—could you come pick me up? Jack, I'm scared of what they'll do if they find out, but I had to see you, I had to." She made a noise that sounded like a whimper. Jack looked at his clock, which now read 5:27. He sighed.

"Kate, it's the middle of the night. This couldn't wait three more hours?"

"Please?" Her voice sounded anxious, weak and pleading. "Please, Jack."

"Alright. Where are you?"

"I'm down by—" She paused, overcome by a fit of coughing. He could tell from the muffled sound that she was trying to lessen the severity of whatever it was she had. He might have laughed, had the situation not been so serious. His eyebrows knitted together, concerned. "Kate—what's wrong?"

He heard her taking a deep breath. "Nothing. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm at the bus station. Can you—" More coughing. Jack was alert now, and hunting around his room for a pair of jeans to throw on over his boxers. "Kate, listen, stay where you are, I'll be right there."

"Thank you," was all she said. "I don't know how to thank you enough."

"Just stay there."


	2. Kate: In the Wee Hours of the Morning

**A/N: Thanks for all the awesome reviews! Here's a Kate-centric chapter. Hope you guys like it :)**

**KATE**

Kate pulled the overcoat tighter around her slim body. She looked a mess and she knew it. Those months in prison had been hell on her physique. The six months on the island had made her stronger, agile, less vulnerable, but prison had wilted her, weakened her. The healthy island Kate was gone, replaced by prison Kate, thin and frail. Her hair was a limp, mousy brown and her face looked pale and slightly gaunt, and there was a meanness to her, something cold and angry. She was ashamed of the way she looked, and ashamed that Jack had to see her like this. She leaned against the glass wall of the waiting booth near the bus station and looked down at herself. Prison food did not agree with her; she'd spent half of the time after meals throwing it back up. She looked like Shannon, or maybe even half that size. She wouldn't be surprised if Jack looked at her with disgust, like she was a parasite. Not even Sawyer would have tried to make any moves on her in this condition. Kate slumped down onto the cold metal bench, fuming. Thinking about the others only increased her gloom. She hadn't contacted anyone since the day they'd gotten off the plane. She thought of the day the tramp steamer had come upon their second raft, how they'd all been so happy at first; how some of them, like Kate, dreaded returning to civilization. They'd been so quiet as they gathered all of their things. Shannon wanted to take Boone's body back with her, and then there was a discussion about what to do with the other bodies, the other victims. In the end, they decided to leave them there, though Shannon and some of the others had protested. Then the ship steamed into Fiji, and they took the private plane to Los Angeles.

The police were waiting for her. She didn't even try to resist. Jack had told her she couldn't keep running. She told him she was born to. He'd told her that she could change. She didn't say anything more, just stared at him helplessly as they handcuffed her. The others were staring too; they knew about her past, that she had been on the plane with the marshal, but it was a jolt to see her in handcuffs, see the feds shoving her into the back of the police car. The looks on their faces hurt her more than anything, but all she could do was glare. She gave them hateful stares and pretended like she didn't care about any of them. She glimpsed Jack's face as they walked him past the police car, and he looked at her, lost, helpless, abandoned, more burdened than he'd ever looked on the island. She felt ashamed and she looked away.

They'd given her twenty years for vehicular homicide, plus another five for robbery, two for resisting arrest and then sixty for what she'd done to Wayne. She remembered sobbing in court. Tom's death wasn't her fault; she told him to get out of the car and he didn't. She didn't shoot him. She didn't hit that tan car like it hit her. There was still Wayne, but she sat stony-faced and silent when they read those charges. He'd gotten what he'd deserved, and she had no remorse for what she'd done to him.

They set her bail at $264 million. It was a ridiculous amount, and who would even pay $2 million? No one cared about Katherine Austen, the thief, the murderer, the liar, the con artist, the runaway. At least that was what they told her when they read the verdict. Who was left to care? Her parents were dead, Tom was dead, the others had forgotten about her. It wasn't until later that she learned that the authorities had tried to bribe the other castaways with money to get them to testify to anything Kate had done on the island. They'd all refused, every single one of them; they all had too many secrets of their own, too many skeletons in their own island closets. In eight months they'd become almost close as family, relying on each other for survival. They hadn't told and Kate was grateful for it. Still, she could never forget the look of hatred on the face of Tom's wife, on the members of the jury, on the people in the audience. She felt like crying over that, but all she wanted to really do was run, but the room was filled with men in uniform and she was too tired to move. They took her to her cell and all she remembered was shutting her eyes and sleeping.

Kate awoke with a start to the sun rising and a car cruising toward the station, honking its horn, and wondering when she'd nodded off and if Jack had changed at all in ten months. Had he lost weight? Was he still the same patient, selfless, handsome Jack she'd known on the island? Kate took a deep breath. The car stopped and a small smile lit her face. She got up and started toward it. Then stopped. A flicker of guilt passed through her mind, but she pushed it quickly away. _Everybody deserves another chance_. Jack had said so himself. Kate took another deep breath. And another. She put her hand up to her chest. What was the matter with her? She glanced up and saw a tall man running from the car. She smiled as his form started to slip out of focus. Jack was always there to save her.


	3. Jack: Tuesday Morning

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! Sorry this chapter took so long; because of Hurricane Rita, Ohio, where I live has been hit with alot of storms and I've been playing it on the safe side by not getting online for a while. I spent three days tweaking this chapter, so I hope you guys like it!

**JACK**

Jack leaned his head against the window, steering with one hand, keeping an eye out for the bus station. So many thoughts were going through his mind. He chewed on his lip and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. _Calm down_. He told himself. _It's not like you don't know what to expect. She must have called you for a reason._

_Probably Sawyer wasn't home_, another part of him said spitefully. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. From what Kate had told him two weeks before their rescue, she was never speaking to Sawyer again.

Jack caught sight of the bus station and slowly pulled up alongside the curb, to gaze out the driver's side window at the pitiful figure sitting, waiting. He instantly recognized Kate (how could he not?), but he was startled by her malnourished appearance. She looked up and he thought he saw a smile on her face, but wasn't sure. She started toward the car and then stopped. She looked up at him again and put her hand up to her chest, breathing heavily. Jack cursed under his breath and hurriedly opened his door, racing toward her. She had an arm around her stomach and was bent over, catching her breath. He put a hand on her back and bent down to catch her eyes. She sniffled and looked away.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine…I just—" She didn't finish. Her eyes flickered to his in a panic and then rolled back into her head. Jack caught her against his shoulder and picked her up into his arms. He looked around for a moment. The last thing he needed was for some nosy person to imagine he was picking up a prostitute and had knocked her out so he could get out of paying. He carefully carried Kate to the car, opening, with some difficulty, the passenger side door and gently putting her down, stopping to buckle the seat belt. As he went around to his own side, he thought seriously of taking Kate down to the clinic, but decided against it. Whatever she had, he'd look into it himself. Hadn't she mentioned something about breaking parole?

"JACK!" Her screams brought him running, his hand still gripping the butter knife he was using to make their lunch. He burst into his bedroom, panting heavily and looked at Kate. She was sitting up, staring wildly around the room, breathing heavily, and looking slightly scared. He sat down on the bed next to her, and she promptly buried her face in his shoulder. He set the knife down on the dresser and put an arm around her, letting his chin rest on her head.

"One minute I was going to your car and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in a strange bedroom. I thought I'd been—I don't know what I thought. I was scared."

"It's alright, I'm here, it's okay." He spoke to her as if he was soothing a child who'd had a bad dream.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked after a moment, pulling away to look up at him.

"You had the symptoms of an eating disorder," he said frankly. "Which is, I'm assuming, why you're so thin? Were you doing this on purpose, or…?"

"No." She said angrily. "The prison food didn't agree with me. But I wasn't trying to kill myself, if that's what you're implying."

Jack smiled, shaking his head. Same old Kate. "Other than that, you also were getting delirious. You had a high fever and a lot of excess phlegm. Mucus," he said, as she turned up to him and frowned. "I gave you something that helped it up, so you were coughing if up half the morning." He indicated the small container next to the bed. "You've been sleeping for two days. You were talking, I don't know. I'm a surgeon, not a psychiatrist, but I thought you might be going crazy. Except you always were, so I didn't have the sense to—"

Kate gave him a don't-go-there sort of look, so he stopped, grinning. She shifted and moved back to lay her head down on the pillow, kicking away the blankets. "So, what's been up since I've been incarcerated?" Her voice sounded remorseful. "I mean, what's been happening with the others?"

Jack took a deep breath, wondering where to start. "Well, for starters, Charlie and Claire got married. Aaron's almost two—yeah, I know," he added, seeing her surprised look. "And they're expecting a new baby, in about three months. They live in Sydney. Sayid and Shannon are in New York, I think."

"Married?" Kate asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I think they're living together. I haven't talked to them in a while. Michael and Walt are doing well, last time I heard. I haven't heard from Sun or Jin in a while, but they're living somewhere in LA. After Hurley found at that Locke worked at a box company he owned—Hurley won the lottery before the crash, apparently he's worth quite a lot," Jack added, seeing Kate's incredulous look—"he offered Locke a manager position and co-ownership, or something like that. As for me, I thought about going back to work at the hospital, but I didn't want to play doctor anymore. Not to adults, anyway. It's bad, especially after Hurley told everyone at the docks that I was the hero. My mom's got lots of newspaper clippings about the crash, back when it happened, and the developments and things like that. A year and a half later and reporters are still calling. Oh, and sorry about how I picked up the phone."

Kate grinned. "You _were_ our hero, Jack. I don't know why you keep trying to make yourself seem modest. So where are you working?"

"At the Children's Hospital. I demoted myself to look after the ones who might be there for a while, you know, terminally ill or recovering from cancer, leukemia, that sort of thing. I don't mind their questions, and usually they're too afraid to talk much."

Kate gave him a look of pure admiration. "It fits you. I'll bet they like you a lot."

Jack felt his cheeks growing hot. Something inside of him stirred at Kate's look. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind and Kate bit her lip, another look coming into her face. He could almost read this new look in her eyes and he had put off mentioning what he knew she was thinking. She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it.

"I haven't heard from him."

"Oh," she sounded almost disappointed. Jack's mood underwent a swift transformation. He cursed and hopped up and started toward the kitchen. A moment later he returned, looking sheepish.

"Well, I burned the pasta. I'm not a good cook. I hope you don't mind Chinese. Any favorites?"


	4. Kate: A Thousand Miles

A/N: Here's chapter 4! I hope everyone enjoys this one, there's some cutesy moments, and at the end Jack gets some payback for something Kate did in "The Greater Good." Don't worry, the next chapter, Kate dreams about the island and you'll learn why she and Sawyer had a falling out.

**KATE**

Kate saw the look of utter happiness in Jack's eyes when he mentioned his new job, and she couldn't help being proud of him. He couldn't accept his hero status, and yet here he was, playing hero again, whether he knew it or not. She beamed at him, and, to her surprise (which soon turned to smug satisfaction), his cheeks were tinged with pink.

Until this point, Kate's happiness at being with Jack again, at being able to laugh and smile with him, had been wonderful. But she did not miss his clear omission of Sawyer. A part of her still hated him for what he did. It was a small part, though, and it had only diminished as she sat for seven long months in a lonely jail cell, thinking about Jack, who she adored, and Sawyer, about whom she wasn't sure what to think. Kate chewed her lip and glanced up again at Jack. She'd barely opened her mouth when he said plainly,

"I haven't heard from him."

"Oh," Kate hadn't meant to sound so low. She picked at loose threads in the quilt, fuming. _He probably thinks I don't appreciate all he's done. I shouldn't have brought it up._

She watched him from the corner of her eye, as he cursed and sped from the room. She fell back against the pillows in a huff, and then wished she hadn't. Something that smelled like burning rubber was sifting into the room. She wrinkled her nose as Jack came back into the room to explain the smell. She only feigned disappointment; she hated spaghetti.

"Vegetable Fried Rice," she said automatically, in reply to his question, sitting up again. She began sifting through her brain to remember the last time she'd had it. It was long before the crash, she knew that at least. She'd missed so much…

Jack returned from the kitchen with a glass of orange juice and a phone book. Kate starred at him—when had he left? She must have been dreaming, because he was gazing at her with an odd look in his eyes. He handed her the glass as he came to her side of the bed and sat on the edge, picking up the phone while searching through the book. Kate took a sip of the juice. It tasted funny, but then again, she hadn't had real orange juice in a long time.

Without thinking, he leaned back gently against her legs as he placed the order. Kate didn't protest; on the contrary, there was something comforting about feeling him nearby. His back was warm against her bare legs, but noticeably tense. She sat up, and he moved up, probably thinking it was making her uncomfortable. As he began ordering, she placed her hands on his shoulders and massaged them gently. Jack clearly wasn't expecting _that_, as he stifled a groan and nearly dropped the phone. Kate pulled back, embarrassed, biting her lip. He gave her a funny look, one she'd never seen him give before, as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like an apology into the phone, waited, then hung up, before turning to face her, his eyes wide.

"Sorry," she muttered, blushing. He blinked, apparently at a loss for words. A fire inside of Kate suddenly roared, and her heart was beating wildly. She tried not to look at Jack, yet the feeling was just getting stronger and she couldn't tear her eyes away from him, and she was afraid to feel this way. She felt vulnerable the way he was staring at her, like he was some animal and she was his prey. It was a tense moment, and neither of them broke it, until suddenly, Jack leaned forward and his lips were on hers and she thought any moment she might go on fire. It had been months since she'd had close physical contact like this with anyone. She'd watched the other girls in her cellblock, dangerous hardened girls who catcalled the new girl. The first day that one had started flirting with Kate, she'd given the girl a black eye. They didn't bother her after that.

This was not their first kiss, but it was by far their most passionate. Their first, if it even counted, had been Kate kissing Jack on the cheek in gratitude. That was two months after the crash, and there was rarely an opportunity for them to get away; Jack was in charge of the caves, and Kate, having moved there with the others after "the Others" scare, was working twice as hard with Sun to grow more food in their little gardens. Sneaking quick kisses on an island full of people was no easy task; spending time alone was even rarer, and they had to content themselves to limit their interactions even in private, discussing the daily happenings of the island; there was no telling when someone like Walt could walk in on something very intimate. The other couples were careless; Jack and Kate took their time.

It was Jack who pulled back first, looking down, his face a deep crimson. Kate bit her lip for what seemed like the fiftieth time—why do I always do that when I'm embarrassed? She asked herself—and turned away. She felt Jack's eyes on her face, and was suddenly self-conscious of her too-thin body, limp hair, the hardness of her eyes.

"We're not on the island anymore," she said softly. "There are no safe places here. They'll put me back in jail for breaking parole. I only need a place to stay for a while. I don't want you to get in trouble. I can't—we can't."

"We're not on the island anymore," Jack repeated, his voice dangerously soft. "No one's going to put you back in jail. I won't let them."

"Jack, I broke parole! Don't you understand? I wasn't supposed to leave the county, but I came all the way out here and—"

He grinned, a cheeky, sly grin that only made her angrier. "I looked at your papers. I called around, pulled some strings. You didn't break parole. They misspelled "county" and wrote "country" instead. So as long as you don't feel like globe hopping, I checked, I can let you stay here. I had to point out their error, but since you already left, they can't do anything."

Kate's brain went into overdrive with all emotions competing to be the one she expressed. Her anger faded into confusion, then appreciation, then suddenly completely thrilled. She threw her arms around Jack, letting tears flow.

"Thank you. You really are my hero. You're too much, Jack."

He held her and let her cry out her tears. She suddenly felt very tired. Releasing her grip on his arms—I didn't think they'd be so muscular, Kate thought absent-mindedly to herself—she glared at him.

"I need you to get some sleep before I have to go pick up the food," he told her firmly, releasing his own hold on her and peeling back the blankets to help her in. She blinked several times at him.

"You—put"

"Sleeping pills. In your juice." His voice was serious, doctor-like, but his eyes were teasing. "Payback, you know. Here, lay down, Kate. I'll be right here for a while. You'll be so knocked out you won't mind if I'm gone for a half hour."

"Why would you—crush—pills?"

"Just lay down," he told her again. "You should be asleep within five minutes. I've got to clean this place up; you haven't seen how messy it is. I have to do something so that you'll be proud of me."

Kate's voice fell to a soft murmur, as her eyelids closed and she drifted of into sleep, "I already am, Jack."


	5. Kate: The Breaking Point

A/N: I'm baaaaack! Did you miss me? I took a break from my stories for a while so I could concentrate on my SATs which I took on 10/8/05. I hope I did well! I tweaked this chapter a bit, and worked on another chapter so you'll be getting a twofer this update! This is Kate's dream, hence the italics, of why she's on the outs with Sawyer. R&R and Enjoy!

**Kate's Dream**

_Kate sat at her usual spot on the beach, staring out into the ocean. It had been four months since the crash and most of them were resigned to the fact that rescue was probably never going to arrive. Their supplies were already running out. Basic necessities, such as water and food were still plentiful; the island still supplied these things. Some of the clothes had taken a beating, but they were still in good use. It was the things they took for granted—deodorant, toothpaste (although Sun had come up with a wonderful alternative), soap, lotion. The worst, at least for the women, was not having tampons. They had to make do with whatever they could find, although it was very unpleasant, in Kate's eyes._

_Jack was running low on medical supplies as well. He was only treating serious injuries, nothing like headaches or scraped knees. The peroxide and alcohol were in critically low supply. They would run out soon, and there was no general store to replenish their supply._

_Kate watched the cool water lap at her toes. She liked to imagine that she was slowly sinking and if she let the water take over, then she might float away from the island. It was an impossible dream, but one that Kate had nurtured from almost the first couple of days after the crash. She looked over at the others going about their business. Walt stood close to Michael. After his rescue, when Jack, Sayid and Sawyer had stumbled upon him tied to a tree the previous month, Walt had been jumpy, and he, normally wanting to wander all over, never strayed far from Michael. He never talked about what he'd seen or what had happened to him during the month he'd been missing, and after a while, they'd stopped asking. The raft had floated in pieces back to the island with its three passengers clinging half-dead to it, and all they could say was that Walt had been taken by strangers in a small boat. Beyond these disturbances, life on the island went on. Their attempt to blow open the mysterious hatch that Locke and Boone had uncovered had failed. The French woman hadn't been seen since she'd taken Claire's baby, who was now four months old and thriving, in spite of their condition. Whatever that thing, that monster was, it too had been dormant for nearly two months. Their existence turned to a dull monotony as the days slipped by. Kate couldn't help missing the first months when everything was new, unexplored. Now, however, it was as uneventful as ever._

_Kate was hardly paying attention as Sawyer dropped down next to her. There had been an almost mutual understanding between them that her affections were with Jack. She knew he was disappointed, but he refused to back off. Every chance he had he tried to catch her in a compromising situation._

"_So, Freckles, how's life been treatin' ya?" He inquired in his Southern drawl. She gave him a 'you-know-how-it's-treating-me' look, and shrugged._

"_Nothing new," she said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear._

"_Thought you'd been having a hissy fit by now."_

_She raised an eyebrow. "About what?"_

_He gave her a suave look, accompanied by that ridiculously sly grin of his, looking cool as cucumbers. "If someone took something of mine—or if I lost something I was obsessed with, I'd be movin' mountains to get it back."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

_Sawyer reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plane. _Her_ plane. _Tom's_ plane. She glared at him. "Where did you get that?"_

_He flashed a grin. "Found it. I guess you're so busy cozying up to the doctor you didn't even notice it was missing, did you?"_

_He flew it in front of her face tauntingly. She made a grab for it, but he was too quick and his free hand latched onto her arm. "Uh-uh, Freckles. Gonna have to do more than that to get it back." He let go of her arm, and then stood up, motioning for her to follow. As much as she felt she was being led into some trap, Sawyer had just made this personal. She let him lead her away from the beach, through the jungle, until they reached the place where they'd discovered the case. Here, they stopped, and Sawyer sat on one of the rocks near the small lagoon._

_Kate crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. "Well?"_

"_Well, what?"_

"_What do you want? If you think I'm going to make out with you again, forget it," she informed him matter-of-factly. He grinned again. _

"_What is it?"_

"_What is what?"_

"_The plane. Why is it so important to you? What do you need it for?"_

"_It's nothing. Just a plane."_

"_Yeah, but this ain't just any old plane. You weren't worried about getting that case to get the guns away from me. You wanted that thing for this little plane. So what is it? Why's it so damned important to you?"_

"_It's just a plane, Sawyer. Some kid's toy plane, that's all."_

"_Who'd it belong to?"_

_Kate looked away. She wasn't going through this again. It had been hard enough telling Jack. She felt hot tears in her eyes and quickly brushed them away._

"_If it's nothing, why are you crying?"_

"_I'm not crying!" she shot back at him, angrily, wiping the tears away quickly._

"_Sure looks like it to me," he inspected the plane. "Looks pretty useless."_

"_Shut up!"_

_Sawyer stood, raised an eyebrow. "Gonna make me?"_

_Kate knew she could have. Time and time again Sawyer had tested her, and she usually bested him. He underestimated her, but she didn't want to risk losing the plane. It was all she had left of Tom…_

_She made another grab at it, and again Sawyer proved too fast. He grabbed her arm and squeezed it threateningly._

"_I'm gonna give you one more chance to tell me why this thing is so important to you. What is it?"_

"_It's nothing."_

"_You're lying."_

"_I am not!"_

It belonged to the man I loved. It belonged to the man I loved! It belonged to the man I killed…

"_Why are you so interested now?" She shot at him. "Not like you never cared before."_

"_I've seen you. Day after day, you're always looking at this thing like it means something. I'm curious and I want you to tell me what it is."_

"_I don't have to tell you anything."_

_He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He jumped from the rock and turned his back on her, tossing the plane in the air nonchalantly. She reacted quickly and ran at him. He caught the plane and turned, sensing her movements. She caught him off guard, slamming hard into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. But she was out of shape and he was not, and he recovered quickly, slamming her up against the large rock. She gasped in pain and inadvertently bit hard her lip. Tasting blood, she glowered at Sawyer, who was returning the look, his filled with anger and spite._

"_What the hell is wrong with you?" She yelled angrily, wiping the blood from her lip._

_He didn't answer. Instead, he dropped the plane on the rocky gravel. Before she could even move to take it, he raised his foot and brought it down hard, slamming his shoe onto the little metallic model. Kate inhaled sharply, and her breath caught in her throat. She cried out as she heard the sickening crunch of metal on rock. She didn't want to look at the crushed remains of the only thing she might have moved the heavens and earth to retrieve. He was right, she'd been spending so much time with Jack that she'd forgotten Tom's plane. Forgotten Tom. And now it was broken, dead. Just like Tom._

_Sawyer was looking at her in disgust. She suddenly found herself, for the first time in her life, afraid of a man. He looked as if he might hit her again, and she whimpered and cowed against the stone. Sensing she wasn't going to fight, he turned and walked away, leaving Kate alone. _

_She didn't return to camp that night. Jack came looking for her, and he found her still lying against the stone, staring at the plane. He picked up the broken pieces and put them in his pocket, then picked Kate up in his arms and carried her back to the caves. When he asked her what had happened, she said she'd gotten lost and fallen and crushed the plane when she fell. She couldn't explain why she was protecting Sawyer. She avoided him from that moment on. Jack noticed, and she only said she was never speaking to him again. She thought he might have connected the severed relationship with the broken plane, but if he did, he never said. After that, Kate moved her things to be near where Jack slept. She wasn't sure if it was out of fear, hatred, or the strange feeling of longing that she got each time Sawyer walked by, his eyes fixed forward, ignoring her, as if she wasn't there._


	6. Jack: Back to Bedlam

A/N: As promised, here's the second chapter of the update! Just a notice: it has just come to my attention that when I make minor edits using the document editor on when it saves, some of the words run together and some are eliminated, etc. If you see a runon word, let me know so I can fix it asap! Thanks! R&R and Enjoy!

**JACK**

Kate had come to him wearing nothing but an old T-shirt and a raggedly pair of jeans. Before he'd left, he made sure she was fast asleep, and then went through the slow process of removing her clothes. He felt like some sexual deviant doing this while she was sleeping, but he knew it she was awake she wouldn't have let him in the first place.

He had made sure in advance that the sleeping pills were strong enough to keep her knocked out for a while, and he was glad of it. She groaned in her sleep and occasionally muttered various words. He pulled her arms from her sleeves, first one, then the other, then gently lifted her head while he pulled the shirt off. He checked the tag. _Small_. He grinned to himself and shook his head. He should have known, seeing how skinny she was.

He had a hard time getting her jeans off. She kept shifting uncomfortably to her side and more than once trapped his hand in a precarious position. Finally he managed to get them off and check the tag. _3_. He folded them and placed them on the edge of the bed next to her shirt. Rummaging through his drawers, he found a large shirt that would have to do until he got back.

Before he put the shirt on her, he checked her bra and underwear. He turned red without anyone to even see his embarrassment. He noted the sizes and was quick about it. He quickly wrote down all four sizes on a piece of paper, stuffing it into his pocket, before he put the long T-shirt on her. He grabbed his wallet and headed out the door.

Kate was still asleep when he got back. Jack struggled under the weight of the takeout and the three shopping bags in his hand. He set the takeout on his kitchen table and carried the three bags into the bedroom and set them on the floor. In her slumber she had kicked her clothes onto the floor. Jack silently noted he was glad his couch had a pullout; Kate was a wild sleeper.

He went back into the kitchen to put the food onto separate plates. Vegetable Fried Rice for Kate, General Tso's Chicken for himself. He grabbed two forks, a handful of napkins and some of the little packets of sweet and sour and soy sauce and carried it into the bedroom. He'd misplaced his trays when he'd moved, so he just set everything on his dresser before shaking Kate awake. She protested as she woke up, and before long he was staring into her bright hazel eyes.

"Morning, sleepy." He joked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to her as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. He handed over her plate and a fork. She helped herself to the soy sauce.

"It's three in the afternoon, Jack." She said, shoveling a spoonful of rice into her mouth. "Sorry, I'm hungry."

"I can tell," he chuckled.

"Wanna catch up?"

"On what?"

She shrugged. "Life since the island. You already know what I've been doing," she told him mournfully. "And I know what you're doing now. I mean, when you got back. Tell me how you adjusted when we got back?"

"Well," he said, speaking between swallows, "The first thing I did when I got back…I went to McDonalds."

"Ha," Kate's jaw dropped momentarily and she exploded with laughter. "You're serious? What'd you get?"

"A Big Mac with everything on it. I supersized the whole thing. It's a shame. I couldn't even get past the sandwich. We never had huge meals on the island, so I don't think my stomach was use to it. I just took it home and ate it the next morning."

"Oh, you didn't. Jack, that's disgusting. Day old fast food?"

"Yeah, well, I hadn't had it in forever. It was awful, but it meant things were okay. Stuffing those French fries into my mouth that second day meant it wasn't a dream. We were really back."

"So what next?"

"I went out and—" he ducked his head in embarrassment. "You're going to think I'm a nerd."

"Oh, god. Don't tell me—you went and saw Star Wars, didn't you?"

"Yeah, well…"

Kate giggled. "I never would have taken you for a Star Wars-y person. You're always the hardcore spinal surgeon to me."

"I was a Jedi for Halloween when I was ten, me and my friend Marc. No joke, we had the robes and lightsabers and everything. We thought we were saving the galaxy."

"There you go being a hero again," she said. He rolled his eyes at her.

"The next day, that's when all the reporters came knocking on my door. They'd re-released the passenger list to the public, so they went looking for everyone."

"Yeah, some of them tried to get into the holding cell where I was."

"Yeah…they did an interview program on Good Morning America about a month later."

"I saw that. They played it on TV. It was you, Charlie, Claire, Hurley, Sayid, and Locke. And Scott—Steve? I always forget"

"Yeah. No one else wanted to do it. Or else they couldn't locate them."

"Did you get to see Aaron?" Kate asked hopefully. She'd always felt a special affection for Aaron, as she'd helped him enter the world. She wondered if doctors who delivered babies felt the same way? "He must be almost two now."

"Yeah, he was there. Of course, we'd all seen each other plenty the month before. He was trying to talk, saying Dada, Mama. Charlie told me he was going through adoption procedures. I forgot to ask about it last time I talked to Claire. I already told you they live in London now, and they're expecting a baby."

"That's cute," Kate smiled.

"You think you'll ever have kids?"

"What?"

"Kids. Do you think you'll ever have any?"

Kate shrugged, scraping at her now-cleared plate before setting it on the bed beside her. "I don't know. When I was a little girl, I used to tell my friend Beth that I wanted twenty. I'm not sure now. I can never seem to stay long in one place. My mom used to tell me if I ever had kids, I'd dump them on the father and leave. I wouldn't do that…" she added, catching his shocked look. "I just don't know if I'd make a very good mother."

"You helped Claire out with Aaron. I'd watch you sometimes. You're a natural. I'm sure you'll have kids someday."

"I'm twenty-nine. It's probably too late for me to find anyone. Who wants to get married at thirty?"

"Kate, my mom had me when she was twenty-nine. My dad was thirty-four. It's not too late. I don't know about having twenty kids though. If you have, say, one every year, you'll be having kids in your forties."

"Yeah, I definitely _don't_ want that. I've already been married once, I don't know if I could be again."

"You were married?"

"Yeah…didn't last very long. You were married weren't you? What happened?"

"She…she died a couple of years ago. It was before the crash, about three years after we were married. She was pregnant. Something like four or five months."

"Oh, Jack…" She looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You know I killed Shannon's father?"

"What?"

"Sarah—my wife—she came into the OR with this guy. They'd been in a car crash, she'd hit him, and they were both pretty bad off. I knew that my chances of saving her were slim. She was torn up inside. This guy, he was unconscious, bleeding all over the place, but I could have saved him. But I didn't. I worked on her, and I saved her, and she fell in love with me. But I let that guy down. He died because I let Sarah live. Adam Rutherford. I'll never forget it now. I overheard Shannon telling Sayid that her father had died in a car wreck. That the surgeon couldn't even fix him. Sayid asked what his name was. '_Adam Rutherford,'_ she said. I knew it was him. After that, I knew I didn't want to be a doctor anymore. Not that kind of a doctor. It was the second time I'd let Shannon down, and she didn't even know I'd worked on her dad. So I killed her dad, I killed Boone. She said she had a step-mom, hell, I probably killed her too."

Kate was looking at him, her eyes understanding. "You didn't kill them. It wasn't your fault Boone died, and it wasn't your fault her father died. If you'd let him live, Sarah would have died."

"She died anyway. I should have gone on and saved Shannon's dad."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault she died."

"You can't say that. Not when she died on my operating table."


	7. Kate: Put Your Dreams Away

A/N: I hope you guys like this chapter, and the story is going to get loads more juicy in upcoming chapters. As always, if you spot errors (since to remove random letters when I click submit) let me know in your reviews. The end of the next chapter is going to be very cute, so I will have to put you in suspense. In one of the upcoming episodes of Lost, we'll find out "what Kate did" (which is the eppi's title) and whatever it was that she did is going to somehow be worked into my story! So R&R and Enjoy! BTW, if you got an alert saying another chapter had been updated a couple days ago, I'm sorry, when I uploaded it, stripped all the return tags so it was all run together. Hopefully this version is better.

**KATE**

Jack's house was in horrible shape. Kate stood in his living room surveying the mess in front of her. Jack had left earlier that morning, leaving her a note, short, simple, and painfully sweet, taped to the dresser:

_Early hours. Sorry I can't be here when you wake up. I'll take tomorrow off and make it up to you. I should be home before dinner. Cook something nice. I left $25 in the kitchen, if you need to do some shopping. Grocery's half a mile west down the street. See you tonight._

_Love, Jack_

_P.S. I left you some stuff in the living room. I hope I got everything right._

Looking at the mess in front of her, she wasn't sure she'd ever find what he'd left her. He'd told her the night before that he'd moved in the previous year and hadn't bothered unpacking anything except what he needed. She'd decided to do him a favor and started sorting through the boxes. Some contained medical reports. These she separated into a pile alphabetically by last names; it wasn't in her personality to be nosy. She looked at the last name, and that was it. Once those were neatly stacked into boxes again, she took them down to his basement.

The next box caught Kate's interest. Inside were stacks of photo albums and official looking documents. Kate picked up what looked like a baby book and opened to the front cover. Inside was a color photo of a sleeping newborn with a head full of dark black hair. Underneath the picture, in someone's neat cursive, was written: _John Christian Shephard. August 13, 1972. 5:13 a.m. 7 lbs. 3 ou. 26 in._

She smiled to herself and turned the page, gazing down at more pictures, these in color, of baby Jack being held by a dark-haired woman—his mother. Flipping through more pages, she found the same neat handwriting marking significant milestones in Jack's infant life. First tooth, first smile, first words, first steps. She had a good laugh over a picture of Jack around eighteen months, sitting on a toddler's potty, grinning, and looking very pleased with himself. The caption read, _Jack goes all by himself, April 1974._

Flipping through some of the other albums, she gazed at photographs of Jack at various ages. Most of these early photos were of Jack alone; occasionally his mother would show up, but there were no pictures of Jack with his father, at least not anymore. Kate noticed that several photographs had been removed. The captions had not been scratched out completely, and she could still see things like, "Christian and Jack, March 1974." "Christian and Jack, September 1978." "Christian and Jack, Christmas 1980." Jack had told her that he and his father had had a falling out; Kate guessed that after this, Jack had tried to remove all traces of his father from his life.

Beginning when, Kate estimated, Jack was about seven, there appeared pictures of him with another boy, who Kate noted in the captions, was his friend Marc. They were, it seemed inseparable. He appeared in at least one photograph per page, grinning broadly, with Jack, who smiled without showing his teeth.

The albums ended on October 19, 1986, just after Jack would have been fourteen. She wondered why there were no more pictures, but maybe Jack thought he was too old for getting his picture taken. At least Jack would have memories of his childhood, Kate thought. She couldn't recall ever having pictures taken as a little girl, except for those mandatory school photographs for the yearbook. Her family had never been very well off, and because her father was in the army and they moved a lot, they didn't have time for those things. The last picture she remembered taking was her own mug shot, her angry face leering at the camera.

Kate packed the photo albums in their own box and took these downstairs. When she came back up, it dawned on her that between the photo albums and alphabetizing the medical reports, she'd spent nearly three hours sitting in the living room. She eyed the mess before her and decided that Jack should have cleaned it up long ago, and there was no point in her cleaning it up for him. Partly, though, she was too tired to finish.

As Kate made her way into the kitchen, she noticed three plastic shopping bags sitting in a chair partially obscured by a large box. Jack had taped a piece of notebook paper with her name on it and an arrow pointing toward the bags. Kate grinned and rolled her eyes. She picked up one the bags and peered inside, finding herself looking at a pair of blue jeans. To her delight, she found four more jeans. She checked the tags, and to her amazement, they were all her size. Folding the jeans back up, she opened another bag, to find a variety of shirts, also in her size. She nearly laughed out loud at one, a green shirt, the exact same type that she'd worn on the island. Further down in the bag was a pair of khaki pants. These two things she lay on the back of the chair; she was going to change into them as soon as she'd had a nice shower.

The third bag contained lots of bras and underwear, as well as toothpaste, a toothbrush, deodorant, a hairbrush and comb, soap, shampoo and conditioner. She imagined Jack at the checkout counter with this huge pile of women's clothes and nearly blushed for him. She made a mental note to thank him for all of this.

She took the things into Jack's bedroom and dumped them on the bed, figuring she'd wash and iron them and then maybe ask Jack if she could borrow one of the drawers in his dresser. She didn't know how long she'd be there, and she was sick of running. She took the green shirt and khaki pants and a pair of underwear and a bra and put them in a bag with the toiletries and went into the bathroom. As she sat on the side of the tub waiting for the water to warm, her eye caught sight of a bit of paper sticking out of the back pocket of the pants. Tilting her head to the side, she removed the paper, unfolded it and read.

_Either I know you well, or I don't know you at all. I saw that shirt on the rack and I knew you should have it. You saw this in the bag and you grabbed them and they're the first thing you're going to wear. Either that, or I'll get home and find you've gone and you won't get this until you're across the border and it'll be too late by then. But I know you better than that, don't I?_

She laughed, and shook her head. He knew she wouldn't run, and so what if he did know her that well. She smiled to herself and placed the note back into the pocket.

When Jack got home, Kate was curled up on the couch in his den watching TV. His den was, as opposed to his living room, remarkably clean.

"Hey,"

"Have a nice day at work?" she asked, scooting over and patting the vacated space on the couch. He sat.

"Great," he said, looking almost depressed. "This kid, Adam, one of the kids I've got, he's six. Real sweet kid. Anyway, he's been going through chemo for his cancer, but he's not taking it very well."

There was a short silence, and Kate felt uncomfortable talking about dying kids. "I...uh, got your notes," she said carefully, hoping to get a smile from him. He forced one, and then went back to moping. "I tried cleaning up your living room," she tried again. "I saw some of your old baby albums. You were a cute baby."

_That_ got a smile out of him. "Yeah, until I got older and got freckles and my mom had my hair cut like the Beatles."

"What's wrong with freckles?" She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "I've got freckles."

"We'll you're cute with freckles. I'm not."

"So you think I'm cute, Jack?"

"I didn't say that..." He was starting to blush.

"Ah, you don't think I'm cute then? I see how it is." She gave him a playful shove. "I don't think you are either."

She ran her fingers across his chin, touching his stubble.

"Don't shave this off, ever." She told him. "I like you with the stubble. You're cute with stubble."

"You _are_ wearing the shirt," he pointed out, obviously trying to change the subject. His face was bright crimson. "I knew you had to have it when I saw it."

"Thanks for all the stuff. I was trying to picture you in the checkout line with all those women's clothes."

"I went through the express lane. They were giving me dirty looks, because I guess you're supposed to have twelve items or less. All of the cashiers were guys, I felt odd with all the--you know." Kate rolled her eyes. _Men_.

Jack settled back in the couch. "You cook anything? I don't smell anything."

"I forgot. I took a shower and washed my hair and it felt so nice I just didn't feel like doing anything. I am hungry, though."

"We can always go out to eat. You still a vegetarian?"

"Yes, Jack, I'm still a vegetarian."

He chuckled. "Alright. How does the Olive Garden sound?"

Kate smiled. "Perfect."


	8. Jack: Long Ride Home

**JACK**

Jack caught himself humming on his way home from work the following Friday. Ever since Kate had arrived—or rather after her recovery—he had been in a very sanguine mood. He'd taken the week off to spend time with Kate, but that morning he'd had to run to his office to pick up some paperwork. The nurses noticed how cheery he looked. One of them, Melinda, asked him what the cheerful demeanor was all about. It just wasn't like him. Jack just grinned and told her an old friend had stopped by. Then he was in his car driving home and he was humming.

When he got back home, Kate was still asleep, her hair splayed across her face and arms. She looked peaceful, Jack thought. He suddenly felt very tired and after spending a week on the couch, his bed was looking more comfortable than ever. He hated to disturb Kate, but he knew she was a heavy sleeper, so he pulled off his shirt and climbed onto the bed, turning on his side to watch Kate as she slept. It amazed him at how young she looked as she slept. Her features were softer and babyish, although he wasn't sure he'd ever tell her this. Jack knew that behind those soft hazel eyes was someone capable of cruelty. He didn't like to believe it, but he remembered the day she'd told him how she'd taken the plane from the safety deposit box, how she'd planned an elaborate bank heist and shot three men to get that plane back. He didn't know just what she was capable of. He still couldn't forget the look in her eyes the day she'd nearly killed him, even though it was an accident, even though after she'd broken down and cried, even though they'd almost done what they'd both wanted to do for a long time. Still, Jack was torn between the dangerous Kate and the Kate who let her guard down for him.

_It was an accident, she'd told him. He snuck up on her while her back was turned. She was in the middle of the jungle, and Jack thought she was gathering fruit. He got closer and put his arms around her waist, thinking he'd just scare her a little. Instead, she elbowed him in the stomach—hard—and spun around so fast, and suddenly he was staring down the barrel of a gun. She dropped it when she saw it was him, but in her eyes, he'd seen a flicker of anger, what he supposed was the real Kate, the dangerous Kate._

"_What's with the gun?"_

"_It—um. I was going to be out here alone. I didn't want someone like Ethan sneaking up on me."_

"_Ethan's dead, Kate." He shrugged it off and leaned in to kiss her. It was more of an I-understand-and-it's-okay-you-almost-shot-me kind of kiss, but in truth, after seeing the way her eyes had been blazing, he was more afraid of her now than ever. She relaxed in his embrace, breathing heavily._

"_I almost killed you, didn't I?"_

"_It's nothing. You were startled. I won't do it again."_

_She pulled away and searched his eyes questioningly. He tried to clear his face of any betraying emotions. She raised an eyebrow. He raised one back._

"_What were you doing out here anyway?" he asked, letting her go to peek around her. She took a step backwards quickly, as it blocking his view. "Nothing."_

So that's how it's going to be then,_ he said to himself. _Never mind, then.

"_Let's head back to camp," she said quickly._

"_Why can't you trust me, Kate?" he asked her softly._

_She wouldn't look at him. She kicked at the ground with her shoe._

"_Why is it that you're so eager to know more about me, but if I even so much as ask for your favorite color, you change the subject? What did you do that's so bad? Why don't you just trust me?"_

_She still didn't look at him. "I—I just don't want any more people hating me."_

_He sighed. "How do you think it makes me feel when you don't tell me things? Kate, we've been here eight months. Chances are that we're not getting rescued."_

"_I have a lot on my mind," she said, turning her back on him and bending down to pick up the gun._

"_Don't walk away from me, Kate."_

_Her hand inches from the gun, she straightened, back still toward him. "Just because everyone thinks you're the savior doesn't make you my boss. You aren't going to bully me around!" Her voice sounded shrill, very un-Kate like. _

"_So now I'm the island tyrant?" he shot back angrily, his face feeling hot. "If you went out of your way to be open with me for once, if you told me what's bothering you, if you stopped yelling at me for wanting to know more about you, then I wouldn't have to get so upset with you!"_

"_We're not married, Jack." She said quietly. She clutched her hands into fists. "And I'm not like you. I'm not perfect."_

_That stung, and he felt as if she'd slapped him in the face. "I don't know everything, Kate."_

_She sighed and picked up her bag. "I have to go," she said as she walked away._

"_Kate!"_

_When she turned around, he saw that her eyes were full of tears. He walked toward her and touched her cheek with his hand. She dropped her bag and moved into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his shirt._

"_I'm sorry," she said after a few minutes. "I'm getting your shirt wet."_

"_It's okay," he said, rubbing her back absentmindedly._

_She sighed heavily and pulled back to look at him. "I want to tell you things, Jack. I'm just afraid that you'll hate me if I tell you. That's why I can't trust people, they always end up hating me."_

"_Hey. Look at me." Jack said firmly. "I would never, _never_ hate you. I don't even care what you did anymore. I'm just frustrated about other things. It's not you, Kate."_

_She looked around anxiously. "We hardly ever have any time alone together."_

"_We're far enough away from the caves. And even further from the path to the beach. Probably no one knows we're here."_

"_Sun does," Kate said quietly. "I told her if I've ever gone missing, she can look for me here. I come here to think. If Sun needs me—"_

"I_ need you." Jack said impatiently. He led her over to where a grove of trees provided shade over a grassy spot on the forest floor._

"_Here?" she asked, looking skeptical. He nodded and started kissing her again. She returned them eagerly. He backed up against one of the trees, still hanging onto her waist. She broke from the kiss and began unbuckling his belt, pulling out his neatly tucked shirt and pulling it up over his head. Then she kissed him again, not able to keep herself away. He deepened the kiss before pulling away to unbutton her shirt. Kate, breathing hard, put her forehead against his. He was on the second-to-the-last button when they heard a noise through the trees. They both froze, listening. Then, someone yelled,_

"_Kate!"_

_Kate looked at him, both alarmed and disappointed. "It's Sun." She said, taking a step back and buttoning her shirt back up. Jack buckled his belt and bent down to pick his shirt up from the ground and put it back on, not bothering tucking it back in. When Sun emerged from the trees, she saw Kate picking berries from the branches of a shrub, and Jack leaning against a tree, talking with her in low tones._

_Jack looked at Sun, who was out of breath. "What's wrong?"_

"_Ship—there's a ship at the beach! It found the other raft, and they brought it back, and we're rescued!"_

_Jack's first reaction was to move to Kate and take a tight hold of her sleeve. "No more running," he whispered. His hand moved down to intertwine with hers and they followed Sun to the caves to get their things. Several people were still here, collecting the last of their belongings. Jack kept a close eye on Kate as he got his things, packing all the remaining medical supplies into another suitcase. She gathered her things slowly, and Jack came to help. When he'd fastened her suitcase, he looked up at her. She was crying._

"_Hey, cheer up. We're saved, Kate."_

_She gave him a scathing look. "No, _you're_ saved. What do you think the authorities are going to do when they hear that the survivors of Flight 815 have been found? They're going to be at the dock waiting for me and as soon as I step off the ship, they're going to arrest me."_

"_Don't run, Kate. Just serve your time. I'll come visit you. I'll do everything I can to get you out, I promise. How are you going to survive here alone? How am I going to survive without you?"_

_She looked up at him, her face damp with tears. "I love you, Jack," she said softly. She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up, taking her bag from him. She stood at the path toward the beach and waited for him to get his things. As he came up to join her, she only nodded and they walked along the path, until at last, they emerged onto the beach._

_Anchored about 200 yards away was a large tramp steamer, and several of the people on the beach were already gathering their things and heading toward the small lifeboats that were preparing to row back toward the ship. Kate kept her head down as Jack took her bags and put them into the little boat. They climbed in and someone took their names. Michael, Walt, Vincent, Charlie, Claire and baby Aaron joined them. There was silence as the crewman rowed toward the big ship. Jack was replaying over and over in his head what Kate had just told him. He knew once they reached the United States, Kate would be gone forever. What little time they had left, he wanted to make the most of. He had loved her for a long time. Why was it that now, of all times, Kate had finally realized she loved him?_


	9. Jack: Desperately

A/N: Gah, what the crap! This story was totally missing chapter 9 for several weeks, and this is a really important chapter! This might trigger story alerts, but this was a pre-existing chapter, so just ignore that.

**JACK**

When Jack woke up, Kate was gone. He felt unusually warm, and something didn't feel quite right, until his senses kicked in and he realized his house was on fire.

Or not quite. But something _was_ burning. He was up in an instant, his body tense and alert. His fire alarm wasn't going off, so obviously it wasn't anything too big, or maybe it was a kitchen fire. Still, he wasn't taking any chances. He pulled on his shirt, walking cautiously down the hallway. The burnt smell led him into the kitchen, where he found Kate. She was using her _hands_ to try and pull a hot pan from the oven. When she heard him come in, she gave him a funny look.

"Did you kill something?" He asked, peering around her to look at what looked like a charred—something sitting in the pan.

"I was trying to make food."

"Yeah, Kate, you're supposed to use oven mitts and you're not supposed to burn—whatever that is."

"I couldn't find them." She looked flustered. He opened the utensil drawer and pulled out a couple oven mitts, putting them on and putting the burnt pan on the stove.

"What exactly were you trying to make?" He raised an eyebrow, pushing at the burnt mess with the glove.

"Toast."

"Kate, you put toast in the toaster. I have a toaster."

She was bright red. "I couldn't find it. I thought it would be faster to use the oven."

He dumped the burnt mess into the trash can and noticed an empty bottle at the top of the heap. He racked his brain…he couldn't remember drinking any of his wine. He took a closer look—it was the expensive champagne that he'd bought the night before Kate's arrival. He'd never opened it. He looked around the kitchen. There was a half-empty glass of wine on the counter and Kate was acting funny. He took a closer look at her. She was wearing one of his shirts, about two sizes too big on her still-lean form. Her hair was still damp from a shower; it was no wonder Sawyer had called her Freckles; her nose was dotted with them. He touched her cheek with his hand and she blushed. She was beautiful, and seeing her now—it had been far too long. Part of his mind nagged him because he knew what kind of person she was on the outside, rough, a criminal with a past. But he knew she had something deeper, a soft spot in the midst of all of that. He knew that, even if there was a layer of cold stone around her heart, inside that stone was compassion, kindness, and sensitivity. There was love, too. He had cracked the shell, and he was determined to break open the rest. Before he knew what was happening, his lips were on hers, his hand was behind her head, and all the cooped up fire from before was released. It had caught her off guard, he could tell by the way she reacted, welcoming the kiss, but the stunned feel of surprise. Her hands traveled from his face, down his torso, resting on his waist. She was close—too close. He groaned and pulled back. She reached up and nipped playfully at his lip. She looked at him, eyes wide, and swooned. He snapped out of it.

"Come on," he tugged on her arm. She opened her eyes and giggled. _My God, she's drunk._ And he was taking advantage of her in this state. He may have been in love with her, but she was drunk and he was a gentleman. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm not so drunk," she told him. "You were just fine a minute ago."

"Kate, when you feel better, we can—"

"I feel _fine_. It was only a bottle."

"It's strong champagne."

"I'm a strong girl. What, are you scared?"

He picked her up, much to her protests, and carried her into his bedroom. He put her down on the bed and stood upright over her.

"Later. Sleep it off, Kate."

She frowned at him, and wrinkled her forehead. "You're a tease."

He shook his head, laughing. She turned her back on him and he watched her for a while, until he heard her light snores. He went into the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

Jack went for a long drive around the city. He filled up his tank and turned his radio off and drove all morning, stopped for lunch, and kept driving. He stopped his car in a hardware store's parking lot to watch the sun setting, and then drove to McDonalds. He finished his McChicken in the Wal-Mart parking lot and drove back toward his house. As he got nearer, it began to rain. He stopped to refill his tank, and drove until he reached his neighborhood, the clock on his dashboard bordering two in the morning. He was on his street now. All the lights were out: everyone in his little gated community was asleep, except the one non-resident: the single light, shining from his bedroom window told him Kate was awake.

He paused in his driveway, turned his car off and sat. His cell phone sat neglected in the cup holder. He turned it on, wincing as the annoying welcoming beeps cut into the steady tones of the _pitter-patter_ of the rain. Another beep informed him that he had 12 missed calls and five unheard messages. He connected to his voicemail, listened…

_First new message. Received on February 5th, 2006 at 10:23am._

_Jack, it's your mother. I'm just calling to ask if you're still coming by to pick up the rest of your things. I have them in boxes for you. It's been five months and—_

_Message has been erased._

_Next message. Received on February 6th, 2006 at 4:15pm._

_Hey mate, this is Charlie. Just calling to make sure we're still on for next month. We're due around April, so Claire thinks a July visit would be good. Anyway, give us a call at home, you know the number._

_Message saved._

_Next message. Received on February 9th, 2006 at 8:06pm._

_Hey Jack, this is Karen. You may not remember me, we met at the bar last January and you gave me your number, so I was giving you a call to find out what you were doing for Valentine's Day. Uh, I'll be out of town this weekend, but give me a call; maybe we can hook up for something Tuesday. Let me know._

_Message has been erased._

_Next message. Received on February 9th, 2006 at 10:42pm._

_Jack, hi, I got your message on the 4th, but I've been so busy I haven't gotten to call back. If you still want to get together on Tuesday, let me know, I know this really great Italian place and they have the best pasta. Anyway, give me a call. You know the number, or at least I hope you do._

_Message has been erased._

_Next message. Received on February 10th, 2006 at 6:16pm._

_Jack, buddy, this is Marc, I haven't heard from you in ages, where've you been? Not bar hopping, I hope. Give me a call, the kids miss you, the wife misses you and your old buddy misses you._

_Message saved. End of messages._

He turned his phone off, put it in the glove compartment and got out of his car. He walked to the door slowly, the rain pouring all around him. He had never felt this way before in his life. His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing was heavy. He opened the door, walked through the front room, the dining room, down the hallway, to the bedroom. The door was shut, and he felt his hands shaking as he reached to turn the knob and open the door. Kate sat cross-legged on the bed, reading a magazine. She looked up when he came in, her face showing complete relief. As he stood there, soaking wet, she ran to him, wrapping thin arms around him. She was crying softly in his shoulder, her tears adding to the dampness from the rain. He put his arms around her and he held her like it was the end of the world.

"Oh god. Oh, Jack," she sobbed. "I woke up and you were gone and there wasn't a note and I got sick and I thought you'd left me."

Her body shook. He took her face in his hands and looked her dead in the eye.

"Never. Never."

And she was kissing him, her hands moving to his chest, working at the buttons. His shirt was off; they were kissing again, she was pulling at his wifebeater, he pulled it over his head. Kate, breathing hard, was already pulling at his belt.

"Fuck," he mumbled. He was falling behind. "I need your help," he told her between kisses, and she had her shirt off. She wiggled out of her pants, pulled at his belt. He was out of his pants quicker than he'd have thought possible. She put her arms around his neck, kissed him. He carried her the few paces to the bed, put her down, and he was on top of her, and their kissing became more frenzied, more impatient. He broke away, kissing at her jawbone, her neck, her collarbone. He pulled himself up, one hand next to her head on the pillow. She took a deep breath, her hands moved to pull off her underwear. They never took their eyes off each other. Jack sighed. He knew at that moment, if he were to die the next morning, at least he would die in peace. _No_, he thought, _I'm already in Heaven._


	10. Kate: Some Things You Should Wish For

A/N: Whew! It's been a long time since I updated, I'm very sorry for the delay, our computer got a virus (nice Christmas present, right?) and was in the shop for the most part of January, so I never got a chance to work on the next chapter. We finally got everything back, but what the guy did was he restored the entire computer, so I lost all my files and things like that. Nerve-racking, yes. I got stuck with frustration and writers block and almost gave up on this story because of Lost and stupid Sawyer coming back to ruin everything, but then Sawyer acted like a jerk and I got excited so I started writing again. The next chapter should be up within a day or so, I'm too lazy to get it right now, but it should be up soon. BTW, according to the oceanic-air site, Flight 815 left on September 22, and since the show started on this date in 2004, I calculated dates and stuff, and since Kate came back to Jack around January 2006 in this story, and based on the dates and stuff, it should be...February 11th/12th now. So Valentine's Day is coming up, and you can rest assured something special is planned :) Okay, enough from me. Enjoy the story!

**KATE**

After, when Jack had fallen asleep, Kate examined his features by the light of the moon. He looked younger while he slept, as though while he slept, the heavy weight on his shoulders disappeared. She reached out to touch his cheek; she liked it when he kept his beard trimmed to stubble. It reminded her of Island Jack. Even now, two years later, something about him looking rugged reminded her of the way he was on the island. As funny as it sounded, even to her, something about his stubble comforted her. And of course, she also liked the way it felt against her cheek…

When he turned over, the moon shone on his shirtless back. Kate's eyes caught sight of the long scar on his back. She smiled to herself, remembering the day more than two years ago, when she'd stumbled upon the shirtless stranger kneeling on the beach inspecting a long gash on his back. How he asked her to sew it up for him because he couldn't reach it, and she almost couldn't go through with it, so intense was her fear. How she noted he wasn't afraid at all, and how he taught her about fear and how to control it. And then, later, hiding from that—_thing_ how she'd taken his advice. _One. Two. Three. Four. Five._ And it was gone.

Her fingers touched the scar lightly. It felt rough, like a war wound. He shifted in his sleep, as if it was still painful after two years. Two years—had it really been that long? She turned her head slightly to look out of the bedroom window. She imagined Claire and baby Aaron. He was two now, and hadn't Jack said that she and Charlie were married, that they were having a baby together soon?

Absently, Kate put her hand on her own bare stomach, wondering vaguely what it would be like to be pregnant. Her biological clock was ticking and her mouth formed a sanguine smile at the thought of it. This certainly wasn't like her—and maybe Jack was right, maybe she was changing, and for the better. Still, she wasn't sure if she was ready yet. She and Jack had only just reunited. _Maybe, if we're still in love in two years, _she thought,_ we can get married and do it right._ She'd seen him sometimes, watching Aaron back on the island. Claire had asked often if he wanted to hold Aaron, and Jack would have that strange longing look in his eyes, then shake his head and hurry back to the caves, or busy himself with something else.

When she felt Jack's lips brush her shoulder, Kate nearly jumped. She snapped her head quickly to face him. His eyes were open, watching her curiously.

"Cold? Can't sleep?" He asked, his voice thick with fatigue. She nodded; shivering a little, she was glad at least for the thick comforter and the warm sweatpants she'd taken from Jack's dresser. "How can you tell?"

"Shoulder's got goose bumps." His eyes flickered for a moment, and he yawned. "What're you thinking about?"

"Babies," she said flatly. It slipped out, really. She was glad he couldn't see her cheeks blushing crimson in the darkness.

He drifted into sleep. "We'll get some later if you want…"

She felt reassured. Yawning herself, she cuddled against him and fell asleep.

---  
After what had happened that night, there was now a new unspoken rule between them. They were as close to dating, without either of them actually mentioning it. Before, she had been biding her time, letting herself heal up before she moved on, started running again. Now, though, all she could think about was Jack, Jack, Jack. He was on her mind constantly, and she couldn't help wanting to be with him all the time. And anything would set them off. Two days later, the day before Valentine's Day, she was trying to bake a cake. She stood, anxiously in front of the oven, holding the oven timer when he came up behind her, put his arms around her waist, and kissed her neck. The timer clattered to the floor, she turned, her body pressed against his, and kissed him back. They went on like this for some time and they would have ended up back in the bedroom if Jack hadn't smelled the burning cake and gone off to prevent his house from catching on fire. Kate sighed.

She woke up the next morning to the sun shining bright into the room. Jack was in the shower—she could hear the water making the _plink-plink_ noises from the bed. She looked up at the clock on the bedside table, which read _8:41_ and yawned. Her back hurt, and she was still tired. They'd stayed up all night watching movies, falling asleep over each other in the den until Jack had dragged her off to bed at three in the morning. She started to drift back into slumber when she noticed the vase on the bedside table, full of long-stemmed roses, and the pink envelope propped against it. Without intention, her eyes were full of tears. She had _never_ gotten something so nice for Valentine's Day, not even from Tom, who, she had to admit to herself, couldn't see anything but the tomboy in her into it was too late.

She reached for the envelope, gently ripping the edge and pulling out the card. A slip of paper fluttered into her lap, and she left it there until she could read the card:

_Kate,_

_I'm glad you're here with me. You picked the right time to come. I have to work this morning, but I'll make it up to you tonight, we'll go out to eat and then we can come home and I'll see if I get my fireplace working. No promises on that one._

_With all my love,  
__Jack_

Kate felt funny inside, a rush of emotions going through her brain all at once. She felt a stab of guilt mixed in; she'd forgotten his card. She hadn't really done much of anything for today. He had done so much for her, and there was a drug store not even a mile up the road, and she hadn't even thought to walk up there. His was charming, albeit short, but she didn't care and she had to get him something too. She set the card back on the bureau and reached under her knee for the little strip of paper, reading:

_I know you like riddles, so I made up this one.  
__It's a rhyming game, full of Valentine's fun._

Kate paused. That didn't sound like much of a rhyme. _Well_, she thought, _at least he's trying, that's more than you can say for a certain other person_.

_I'll make things easy by starting in the front hall  
__Look for something round and small,  
__A bunch of them, shaped like a ball._

"Oh, Jack." She said aloud, groaning at the slight hint of lameness in his abilities of rhyme. There was no use pointing out to him that all balls were round, with the exception of maybe a football. But he was doing his best, and a scavenger hunt sounded fun. She yawned again and pulled on the robe he'd given her and started down the hall. She saw on one of the tables in the hallway, a little basket filled with tiny, round soap cakes, wrapped in fancy paper. She hadn't noticed them before; tearing the paper from one of the soaps, she caught a hint of lavender; another, lilac. She could have stood there, smelling each of the soaps, and there were at least ten more in the basket, but she saw the small strip of paper sticking out of the top, and took it:

_This one was easy, but the next won't be so  
__A delicious pastry will tell you where you ought to go.  
__Your sight won't help; Always follow your nose!_

"What?" She said it aloud, without meaning to. _A delicious pastry_? _Follow your nose_? She could only think of the kitchen, and she had burnt the cake last night. She shrugged, and wandered into the kitchen, and as she went, her nose was instantly hit with the smell of baked apples. She felt like she was in heaven. She'd never told him, and she didn't know how he knew that she loved baked apples. Her nose led her to the oven, and she opened the door, but nothing was there. She went back towards the hall, and the smell faded. _Strange,_ she thought. She went towards the other door, the one leading to the dining room, and the apples filled her nose with bliss. An apple pie sat cooling on top of a glass platter on the table. It looked store-bought, but she knew he was horrible at baking, so it was probably all the best. Resting underneath the glass dish, a small slip of paper.

_I give up, you're too smart, so this is the last of the three.  
__The thing you're looking for, tied to the branch of a tree.  
__This is the hardest, look with all your might.  
__Be wary: you may have to take flight.  
__Mind the birds in the clouds, and soon you will find  
__What you seek: But beware of the chime!  
__By the way, don't worry at all—  
__There is no risk that you'll fall!  
__But keep a sharp eye; what you seek is quite small!_

So he was clever after all. She shook her head. "Tied to the branch of a tree." She repeated it to herself over and over. A tree…and what did he mean, "you may have to take flight?" She was confused now. _Beware of the chime_. There were at least five trees in Jack's yard alone, and none of them would be easily climbable. Two of them were still small, and the others were inaccessible unless you happened to be twelve feet tall. A ladder might help…but she still didn't know which tree, and exactly what she was looking for. And it said that she wouldn't be in any danger of falling, which wasn't true of these trees. She pulled out the chair from the table and stared hard at the note. Minutes passed and she grew more angry and frustrated. From in the den, Jack's grandfather clocked began its music, and then chimed to let her know it was nine o'clock.

She stopped. _Beware of the chime_…The clock! She raced into the den, skidding to a halt in front of the tall grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It was an old clock, maple brown, with a new finish to it. Jack had told her it belonged to his great-grandparents—his mother's grandparents—and they brought it with them when they came from Germany.

Carved into the intricate designs on the clock's face twelve different birds, fluttering on white clouds, that represented each number. Now, it was the sparrow and the mockingbird; _mockingbird o'clock _Jack had told her that he used to say when he was little. Kate's eyes drifted up to the top, where at great maple tree crowned the clock's peak. And there, tied to one of the branches, was a tiny packet. Kate had to drag a chair to the clock to reach it; there was no way she was going to jump up to try and grab it, and risk damaging an expensive antique, especially when it was a family heirloom.

She carefully untied the small package and stepped down from the chair. In black ink on the envelope was two short lines. As soon as she read it, she realised it was no riddle:

_Take as long as you want to make up your mind.  
__I can wait for eternity if I need to (but don't make me.)_

What was that supposed to mean? She wondered. She sat on the chair, tore the top of the envelope and shook out the contents. A small ring rolled into her hand. Kate stared.

"Oh God," she said under her breath. "Oh God. Oh Jack." She slumped slightly in the chair, shocked. A noise behind her make her start and she stood up and whirled around. At the doorway, one hand leaning on the frame, dressed in his uniform, watching her with interest, hair still damp from the shower, plastered to his head and the side of his face, the way Kate liked it, his trimmed stubble, soft eyes, kind smile. He was just there, watching her.

She got up; the ring clenched firmly in her left hand, and went to him. Her free hand took one of his, placed the ring in it. He looked at her, puzzled, until she held out her hand for him, and he understood and slipped the ring on her finger. They said nothing; they didn't have to. Their lips met, they kissed. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and tucked her head under his chin. She peered at the ring on her hand behind his back, wondering. It had happened so fast…She wasn't sure what made her say yes so quickly. A part of her wanted to stop, to think about it first, but now it was too late. But it was only a small part. The rest of her was caught up in Jack's arms, not wanting to let go, afraid of what would happen if she did. He pulled back first, muttering about having to go, he'd be late for work. She looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears, and she didn't even know what she was crying for. They parted, like lovers in a film after making a love pledge, and then going off to death. It was different, though. They had made the pledge, but the way Kate saw it, instead of heading for death, they were heading for a new life.


	11. Jack: Time Enough for Tears

A/N: Hurrah!I know that chapter was a little long, but I had to insert some fluff and friction to get to what's going to happen in two chapters time. I've got this whole story pre-planned out, so I knew I'd have to build them up before the exciting midpoint when all the Jaters are going to hate hate hate me, and I already hate hate hate myself for having to do this to everyone's favourite couple, but it's all for the sake of the story. Have no fear, though! All good Jaters know that, in the end, Jack and Kate will be together, and that's all that matters! BTW, there are some Kate-centric spoilers in here for anyone who missed the episode where we find out what she did, but if that doesn't bother you, read on! I have this habit of waiting until the day after Lost episodes to upload, because I tend to get inspiration from Jate scenes. I was only up to about the end of Jack's flashback and stuck on what to put next, but then I watched Lost last night ('SOS') and got all excited and inspired to finish this chapter. I love the Lost writers! I envy Evie a little; who wouldn't want to be trapped in a net with Foxy! I'd jump at the chance! Okay, enough from me, enjoy!

**JACK**

Driving to work annoyed him. It gave him a headache and that was on good days. Today, though, the traffic had thinned out. He usually left early, at six, before Kate was awake. Today was different; he had wanted to see her face, know her reply. It _had_ shocked him, the way she said yes so quickly. When she'd handed the ring back to him, his breath caught in his throat, but she was tricky and he knew she was accepting. Part of him wanted to do it traditionally, but the other part knew that she'd like the adventure of it all.

He was stopped at a red light, five miles from the hospital. The gears in his mind turned over and over. He started chewing on his fingernails, a bad habit he thought he'd killed back when they'd crashed on the island. He was having that self-assessment problem again.

_What if you're not good enough for her? What if she doesn't really love you? What if you don't really love her? What if you're making a mistake?_

"Snap out of it!" He told himself sternly. He _did_ love her, and he was sure that she loved him. But that made him think back to when Sarah had told him that she didn't love him anymore and that she was going to leave him. He had been working nonstop for days, always late for dinner, so tired he'd fall into bed, sometimes wouldn't even change into his pajamas. And then, the day after she'd told him she was leaving him, she came to him, crying, that she was pregnant. It's mine? Of course it's yours who else's would it be?

They were going to stay together at least for the baby's sake. Jack tried to be excited about being a father, but he knew, and Sarah knew, that they were bringing this child into a marriage that was already dead.

It was maybe four and a half months into her pregnancy when it happened. It was just after his lunch break and Jack was going over some paperwork when there was a call for him to come down to the OR. Some pregnant girl had been walking down the street when some maniac came barreling down the road, chased by police cars and swerving all over the road, hitting two parked cars and the lady that the man later claimed he didn't even see come out of the little corner shop with coffee in one hand, the other resting on her stomach. He hit her directly, going 70 miles per hour and as this was all told to Jack, he knew that there was a slim chance he could save this poor woman. He was in the OR, and he was only an hour in before she was dead, her face mutilated beyond recognition, her internal organs destroyed. He wanted to cry; this wasn't the first time he'd lost a pregnant patient, but it still stung. He was angry, and he left the room, let the orderlies clean it up, get the girl out of there, tell her family, because he was through with operating on people and having them die. It was too much. He went to his office and sat in silence for God knows how long until one of the secretaries stuck her head in the door. She looked upset.

"Dr. Shephard?"

"What?" His voice was harsh.

"They didn't tell you yet?"

He sat up, looking at this woman. He had seen her nearly every morning since he'd begun working here, and he barely said a word to her. She was looking at him with sympathy in her eyes; he was startled. What did this woman know that was making her look at him this way?

"Dr. Shepard…the woman…the pregnant woman you operated on…"

"What about her?"

"Doctor…it…she was your wife."

The cars behind him honked loudly, followed by some driver's catcall of, "Wake up and drive, jackass!"

Jack snapped himself out of his reverie and drove on to the hospital. It would be a long day.

It was late by the time he got home. He pulled into the driveway and sat in the car staring at the front window. The curtain was drawn and the lights in the front room were on, but a part of him was afraid that when he opened that door, there would be a note on the table, _Dear Jack, Thank you for everything. I'm so sorry I had to go, but you know me, I'm always running. I need money to get going, so I'll have to pawn this ring. I know it means a lot to you, but I need the money. I'm sorry. Kate._

He opened the door and tossed his coat on a chair in the front room. His front room opened into the kitchen and he saw Kate sitting on one of the barstools at the counter eating ice cream from a bowl and reading a magazine. She was wearing one of his T-shirts and some pajama pants, and when she heard the door slam behind him, she turned in her seat, gave him an award-winning smile and came over to him. Her hair was damp—she must have just gotten out of the shower.

She laid her head—damp hair and all—on his shoulder, taking one of his hands in her own.

"You look like you've had a bad day," she said simply.

She baffled him sometimes, the way she could read his face like that, but he appreciated her concern. He wished he could stand there all day, holding on to her like that, the way her nose touched the base of his chin, and her lips grazed his neck just there.

"Claire called." She stepped back, leading him into onto the couch in the front room before flopping down beside him. Jack shut his eyes and put a hand on his forehand, massaging it.

"She told me to tell you that Charlie says hello, and the baby is due in April, and they want to know if you'll stand in as godfather?"

He cracked an eyelid. "I'll call them tomorrow. It's late there."

She frowned at him. "It's late _here_."

"I know, I'm sorry, I said we'd go for dinner. I was—"

"Held up." She scooted closer and began massaging his shoulders. "You having an affair?"

He sat up and looked at her angrily. "Don't you _ever_ say that. Ever. Do you hear me?"

She backed off, looking surprised. "Sorry…geez, I was only kidding."

They sat in silence for a while and Kate kept looking sideways at him. Jack wanted to apologize, but he was thinking about Sarah, and that only made him angrier. He couldn't get her out of his head anymore, not since he proposed to Kate. Seeing Kate made him think of Sarah. Even later, when they didn't love each other, they were supposed to try because they were supposed to have that baby, and now he didn't have anything or anyone.

But he was wrong. He _did_ have someone.

He remembered the day of the crash, kneeling in the sand with his shirt off must have looked out of the ordinary, but then, they _had_ just crashed on an island and there was a large gash running down the side of his back. She walked through the brush, rubbing her wrists, looking terrified, and his breath caught in his throat for a moment, and he forgot about his pain, because he knew at once, and he thought about how beautiful she looked standing there, how mysterious. Before he knew _why_ she'd been rubbing her wrists, before he knew about her past. And even after, he still couldn't resist her. It was in his eyes, the way they followed her as she walked past. It was in his voice whenever he talked with or about her. It was in his smile when she made some witty comment about their current situation that always made him laugh.

"Kate, I'm sorry. I'm being a jackass. It's not your fault. I'm having problems getting over—things that happened in the past."

"Sarah, right? Your ex-wife?"

"Something like that, yeah."

She punched him playfully in the shoulder. "You've always been a jackass, Jack. That's what makes jackass. You can't have jackass without 'Jack.'"

He raised an eyebrow at her. She raised one back.

"Look, we've all got our secrets and our past. I'll tell you one of mine. The reason I was arrested was because I killed my father. The man I thought was my father, he wasn't. My mother married a man I thought was my stepfather, but he was my biological father. And I hated him, so I killed him, and then I had to go on the run. I shot several people, robbed a bank, got my childhood sweetheart killed in a shootout, resisted arrest several times, got put in jail and went free because before my mother died, you see, she told the cops that I didn't really kill Wayne. My mother said he was an idiot who came home drunk, left the gas stove on, lit a cigarette and blew himself up. I wasn't even at the house at the time. I only ran because they arrested me the first time, I only robbed that bank to get my plane back, and I had a key, so I wasn't really robbing a bank. I only shot those three guys because they tried to shoot the bank manager. Tom only got killed because I was trying to visit my sick mother and he wouldn't get out of the car. Everything is true, what she said, except I really did kill Wayne. I couldn't stand him being alive because every time I looked at him, I saw my mother's mistake–me. That's real, Jack. That's me, that's my life, my secret past. So you got anything you want to own up to?"

Jack stared at her. In the time he'd known her, she had never told him so much about herself in one sitting. It would have taken all his energy to even coax something trivial out of her. He couldn't leave her empty handed, so he handled it like confession. He told her about his childhood, the way he never seemed to do anything to please his father, the way he even seemed to disappoint his mother. How he'd betrayed his father, how he'd let his best friend down, how he'd destroyed his first marriage.

He told her some things she knew, most things she didn't. He talked about the way he'd always tried to take control of the situation, but how he never asked to be the leader, to be the selfless doctor-hero. How he felt like he had two sides to him, his public face; the brave doctor who can do no wrong, who can solve all the problems. The face he always wears when others need help. This was the side of him that came out in full the day of the crash. He took action because no one else could. So that made him the leader.

And his private face, the one he wears when he can't handle the situation, the side of him that snaps when it shouldn't. The Jack who can't solve everything, who doesn't know what to do, who lets his guard down and lets the fear in. He doesn't let anyone see this side of him unless he can't contain himself. Because this is the side of him that let Joanna drown, that let Claire get kidnapped, that let Boone die, that couldn't save Sarah. The side of him that is too emotional. The side of him that has a weakness.

She listened to him vent his frustrations about the world, and he could tell she understood. It was the same way he understood that whatever she might say, she wasn't perfect, and he knew, the way her face had twisted with rage when she talked about her real father, that she _had_ done it, and she had no remorse for it. But that was the past, and this was _now_. She forgave him for anything he might have done, before they'd met and after, the way he forgave her for the things she'd done.

He touched her face, and was surprised to find that it was full of tears. She was embarrassed, and she tried to pull back, but he only laughed and wiped them away. He took her face in his hands.

"Kate, I love you. You mean _everything_ to me. I mean that. I loved someone before, but I was never in love with anyone the way I'm in love with you." He took her hand, the one with his ring on it, and brought it to his lips, kissing the palm.

She smiled, kissed him, and pulled back looking him in the eye. "I—I love you, Jack. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Jack Shephard.

There was a guilty pang in his heart. Sarah had said the same thing to him all those years ago. But he pushed that thought to the far reaches of his mind. He had Kate now, and that was all that mattered.


	12. Jack: She Will Be Loved

A/N: In the next couple days, I'm going to be making some small changes to a few chapters. It's basically going to be me fixing grammar, spelling, things like that, and changing some stuff that contradicts later stuff, so if anyone gets about 20 updates saying there's a new chapter aside from this one, it's just me doing some manual updates. Enjoy!

**JACK**

Jack rubbed his arm. Little pink splotches were still noticeable where he had had to endure Kate's pinching from yesterday. _St. Patrick's Day is the _worst_ holiday ever,_ he thought to himself. Kate kept sneaking glances at him from behind her newspaper. The two of them were sitting at the kitchenette eating breakfast—cereal with milk—when the phone rang. Kate picked it up, and by habit, looked at the caller id before answering.

"St. Mary's Hos…Hospital, I guess." She glanced up at him and handed him the phone. "Maybe it's an emergency?"

He frowned at the number. It didn't look familiar, and it certainly didn't look like a local number. He shrugged and answered it anyway.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jack? This is Charlie."

"Charlie? Oh, hey, man, what's up?" Kate looked up at him, interested.

"Claire just gave birth. Well, not just now, more like nine hours ago, but she's fine, the little one's fine, Aaron's jealous, naturally."

"And you're nervous. Boy or girl?"

"Boy, we're gonna call him Charles Patrick, since he was, you know, born on St. Patrick's Day. And, oh by the way, we'd like to give him one of your names, you know, since you'll be godfather. March 27th, by the way."

"Well, I don't think anything with Jack Charles Patrick Pace really flows off the tongue. You could use John if you wanted, that's my real first name."

"Nice. John Charles Patrick Pace, and he'll just go by Patrick. Hey, thanks man."

"No problem. Tell Claire I said hi,"

"Will do. I'll let you go, this is probably running up your phone bill."

"I'll let you—hey—Kate, what are you doing—ow!"

"Hi, Charlie!"

Jack now rubbed his ear, but it was mostly for effect and Kate stuck her tongue out at him while she pestered Charlie with questions. Jack picked up the paper and rifled through the articles. He was barely paying attention, when one of the headers caught his eye: _Flight 815 Survivor to Speak._ There was a black-and-white photograph, of who else but Sawyer, who was grinning broadly. Stunned, he read, and re-read the article:

Jack frowned, skimming the small blurb. _James S. Ford, a survivor of the crash of Flight 815, will speak on Wednesday, March 29, 2006 at the Oakridge Convention Hall. Mr. Ford has promised to reveal secrets about his time on the island where he and approximately 50 others were stranded when their flight went down in the Pacific on September 22, 2004. Since the rescue of the passengers, all attempts to relocate the island have mysteriously failed. Mr. Ford will reveal secrets regarding his time on the island, including some that other survivors did not want released. At least one other survivor, Mr. Jack Shephard, the son of the late famous city spinal surgeon Christian Shephard, lives in the area. It is not know if Mr. Shephard will attend the conference._

"Jack? You okay?" Kate's voice brought him out of his enraged state. She was watching him with a funny look her on face. "I've been calling your name forever."

He looked up, and apologized. She tried to peak over the paper. "What's that?"

He stood quickly, taking the page with him. "There's a meeting I'm late for. I just remembered, something in here reminded me. I'll be late. I gotta get in the shower."

Ignoring her confused look, he sped to the bathroom. He didn't have a meeting, but he had to make himself look good. While he waited for the water running from the showerhead to warm up, he put the newspaper under the stream, letting it soak until it was completely wet. He torn the strips into pieces, shredding them until it was illegible. He dropped the pieces in the toilet and flushed it, and finally took a sigh of relief.

Two tickets arrived in the mail that Wednesday the 22nd, round-trip airfare from Boston to London Heathrow. Jack had been planning to get his ticket the next day, and he was sorry that Charlie and Claire had spent this kind of money on tickets, especially when Kate's was worthless; she couldn't leave the country anyway.

Kate begged him not to go. For a while, she used the excuse that she was lonely and all she wanted was for him to stay with her. He told her she was being selfish, he'd already promised Charlie and Claire he'd be godfather. She finally broke down and explained that she was terrified his plane would go down and he'd be stuck on an island like before, and she'd have to wait weeks, months, maybe years. He thought he was reassuring her when he said that there were hardly any islands in the Atlantic, probably not even secret, mysterious ones, but that just set her off again, this time because she said his plane would just go down in the middle of the ocean and she definitely would never see him again. He consoled her, but her mood was drastically lower the rest of the week before his departure. He tried to make things better; if he worked in the day, and even when he didn't, his nights belonged to her and he did his best to make up for the long separation. After, she was happy, and they'd talk until sleep claimed one of them. Jack himself had to admit he was beginning to grow hesitant about leaving her alone.

The morning of his departure came faster than either of them had hoped. Kate moped around the kitchen, burning things and periodically bursting into tears. He told himself she was just moody, probably going through PMS. Sarah had been like that, temperamental, angry one minute, then on cloud nine, then in tears the next. But this wasn't like Kate, and now he was even more concerned. But she shook her head and told him to go ahead.

"I'll be here when you get back. Just take lots of pictures, okay? Of Aaron and the baby. Tell everyone I say hi."

She was dressed, but watching him mournfully. He hated to see her sulking, and when he went to get his things, he remembered that there were two tickets.

"What if you came with me?"

She glanced up at him, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You of all people to suggest something like that. I've broken the law enough already, I can't afford to get in anymore trouble."

"I don't mean to London. Just, to the airport. You can come with me to the gate. There's two tickets here, they must not have known about you. You can come through security with me and get to the gate and pretend like you're taking a later flight. Then you can drive back here and clean my living room."

That got a smile out of her. She nodded, and they were heading to the airport. Jack had his bag checked; he traveled light, and he figured if there was a crash, his stuff would be safe in the luggage compartment. Getting through security was difficult, owing to the fact that they were randomly checking IDs, and Kate didn't have hers. But it was Jack they stopped, barely glanced at his card, and hurried them through.

They found the gate with no difficulty, and forty minutes to kill until his plane left. Neither of them was hungry, and they sat in the lounge for ten minutes, watching businessmen on their cell phones, mothers dragging along their children, husbands kissing wives as they flew to meet mistresses. Kate told him she had to go to the bathroom, but she pulled him along, passing by restrooms until she found one, a family restroom, and dragged him inside. He understood immediately when she backed him onto the couch, telling him she needed just something.

"One for the road." She said after they finished and had their clothes back on. He snuck out first, and as he walked out couple teenage girls sitting at the gate opposite the restroom threw him flirtatious glances. He walked a few yards down to look at the magazine rack just outside one of the airport shops. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kate emerge from the restroom, tying her hair back in a bun as she left the place nonchalantly. The girls threw her patronizing glances, as if coming to conclusions over what had just taken place in the restroom. Suddenly, Jack felt guilty, like some dirty old man that had taken the virginity of a teenager, albeit a willing one, in some back alley, coming into the light for everyone to see his crime. He half expected a priest to pop out and condemn him for having sex outside of marriage.

Kate came over and hugged one of his arms, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He kissed her forehead, relieved. Had he told her he loved her today? Maybe in the heat of the moment in the bathroom, but when he said it now, he meant it. She reached up to smooth his hair, and he caught their reflection in the glass. Behind them, the girls' faces were full of jealously, but he laughed to himself at them.

"Your plane's about to leave," Kate said quietly, pointing to the clock. She was right—boarding was going to start in less than five minutes. With a sigh, he tore himself from the window display, Kate's hand placed comfortingly in his, back to the gate.

As they got back, the woman at the counter announced that it was taking longer than expected to refuel the plane, but no to worry, they would only be five minutes behind schedule, and would probably get into London early anyway. They drifted to the window, watching the plane. Without even meaning to, he began singing,

"_All my bags are packed. I'm ready to go. I'm standin' here outside your door. I hate to wake you up to say goodbye. So kiss me and smile for me. Let me know you'll wait for me. Hold me like you'll never let me go_…"

He trailed off, and she smiled at him, the biggest smile he'd gotten from her all week. It reminded him that of Ben Affleck movie, the one about the asteroid, and how he'd sung that song to his girlfriend (or wasn't she his fiancée?) before he left on the space shuttle. He always vividly remembered that scene for some reason, although he didn't have the courage to actually pick Kate up and sing at the top of his lungs, but he felt encouraged; that movie had a happy ending (aside from all the other deaths, but that he looked over) and the couple reunited. Any thoughts of crashing were far from his mind. They watched the planes taking off on the runway until the woman at the counter announced boarding was beginning. When they said their goodbyes, she remained at the window, her eyes fixed on the airplane. As he passed down the long hallway, he caught glimpses of her through the tiny windows. When he took his seat (23A) he saw her through his window, and waved. She wasn't looking at him, more like searching, until she did find him, and waved herself. As the plane backed up, their eyes locked, until the plane was barreling down the runway, up, up, up into the air, but still his eyes searched the airport below, wishing he had one last glimpse of her, the same way her eyes were searching up towards the heavens, to find the man in seat 23A who was searching for the girl at Gate 15C.


	13. Kate: The Whole World Has Had A Bad Day

A/N: The first and last paragraphs in italics were inspired because I was listening non-stop to the Elizabethtown soundtrack, and the song "It'll All Work Out," by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. It's my new favourite song because it reminds me so much of Jack and Kate and I guess Sawyer when you throw him in the mix, since that's what this chapter is coming too, unfortunately. I usually wait to write new chapters until after the next episode of Lost, but I was so inspired by the whole Sawyer/Ana thing I went to my computer right after the episode ended, although I'm not too happy about the preview next week, where Kate is cozying up to Sawyer again. I wish the writers would stop making her character a wanderer. Sometimes she likes Jack, other times she likes Sawyer. Make up your mind, girl! Anyway, here's the next chapter. I hope no one likes it too much, if you know what I mean ;p Oh, and if any of you guys really do like Sawyer, I'm sorry for making him so mean and conniving. I used to like him, then he did/said some really devious things. In general he's actually a cool character, but I get a little heated when he comes between Jack and Kate. Okay, enough from me. Enjoy!

**KATE**

_She wore faded jeans and soft black leather. She had eyes so blue, they looked like weather. When she needed me, I wasn't around. That's the way it goes, it'll all work out. There were times apart. There were times together. I was pledged to her through worse or better. When it mattered most, I let her down. That's the way it goes, it'll all work out. It'll all work out eventually. Better off with him than here with me_…

Kate drove 50 down the highway back to Jack's house, dividing her attentions between the road and the map he'd given her the evening before. It wasn't far, only about thirty miles, but she was hardly any good with directions by memory.

She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a taxi following her, which was normal coming from the airport, a yellow sports car (tacky. Kate hated yellow cars) a white sedan, green Audi, silver Pacifica. She had been afraid someone would recognize her at the airport and wondered now why she hadn't disguised herself, but being with Jack felt so natural now, she hadn't really thought about it.

She rolled down the window to feel the cool spring air blow on her face and hair, and checked his directions. As she changed lanes to take the next exit, the taxi behind her did the same. She frowned. It was probably a coincidence.

It was not a coincidence when the cab followed her through town. No coincidence either when she drove up to the gate of their neighborhood, that it waited patiently behind her while she punched in the code. As the gates swung open, she sped through them, only to have the cab follow. She was getting scared now, and if she had had some clue where she was in this place, she would have tried to throw him off. But all she was concerned about was getting home, and then she could always call the police.

When she turned into the driveway, the cab kept going, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it was someone else that lived here. Nevertheless, she took no time in getting into the house. She flopped down on the couch and wondered where Jack was now. She'd moped around the airport for a few minutes before leaving, then took another ten to search for the car and five to come up with money for the parking meter, so he was probably just about to go over the Atlantic. She wished she was there with him.

She must have dozed off for a while. Someone was knocking on the door. She felt groggy and had already forgotten the scare from earlier, so she ambled over to the door. In a moment, someone's mouth was on hers, hand on the small of her back, forcing her to take a step backwards. She heard the door slam shut, and the stranger—or maybe not such a stranger—pulled back. Kate blanched.

"Hey, Freckles. Long time, no see." Sawyer said with a wild grin on his face, still holding on to her arm. He still looked the same to her, the same round face, defiant features, and wild, shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. Her skin prickled where he touched her, but she pulled away firmly.

"Next time you want to contact someone, make an appointment first instead of stalking them on the road." _Or showing up at their door kissing them_, she thought to herself.

He chuckled. "Same ol' sarcastic sense of humor. Nice place you got here. Thought you were in lockup."

"I got out. My mom—testified for me. Before she died. So they let me go." Why did she find it so easy to disclose personal information with Sawyer, but she had only just been able to with Jack?

Sawyer sat on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. She pushed them down.

"_Don't_ make yourself comfortable." She said stiffly, folding her arms in front of her chest. "What do you what?"

"Now do you, of all people, really need to ask me that?" His brash manner and that smug grin irritated her now more than ever. She ran her hand over her ring, resisting the urge to punch him in his face.

He eyed her hand. "You engaged or somethin'?"

"Would it matter if I was?"

"Not really," he chuckled. "Who is it? I can't figure out who else would be your type."

"Who ever said _you_ were my type?"

"Come on, Freckles, don't keep secrets. You know what happened last time you tried that."

Her face flashed with anger. "You broke my plane."

"You shoulda given up the goods. Now, come on, tell me, who is it?"

"Why are you here?"

"I got invited to speak at a little old convention here in town."

"You know what I meant. Why are you _here_?"

"Why do you think I'm here?"

"Jack and I are getting married in August." It came out before she could stop herself. The grin slid from his face.

"Ah, you and the Doc." He nodded, as if turning this new piece of information over in his head. I shoulda known." He ran his hands through his long hair.

"You have to leave," She muttered. "Jack is coming home and you can't be here."

"He ain't coming. He's going to London to visit Claire and her VH1 has-been because they just had a kid. You never been too good at lying."

She frowned, "How'd you know about their baby? And how come you aren't celebrating with them?"

"Wasn't invited. How come _you_ are celebrating with them?"

"Because I'm not supposed to leave the county." Ow. There she was, giving him her life story. He stared at her.

"You just gonna stand there or are you gonna offer me something to drink?"

She shrugged and went to the kitchen, wondering why he was here, and of all times, why now? How much longer was he going to stay? Until he got what he wanted? She wondered these things absentmindedly as she took one of the bottles of Jack's most inexpensive wine and poured two glasses. Her tired eyes eyed the Lazy Susan in front of her, and she paused them on a small white bottle. _Sleeping pills_. She took the bottled and opened in, shaking two small pills into her hand. The dosage was small; these were for people who needed quick naps and couldn't be bothered to take the time to actually fall asleep. She crushed up four pills—two more than the recommended dosage—and dumped them into Sawyer's glass. She didn't want to kill him, of course (and being who she was, could probably have done so easily) but just knock him out for a while. She could drive him to the bus station, call a taxi and send him back to wherever, and run. Then she could come back and sleep, and wait for Jack to call. It was the perfect plan. Flawless.

It backfired on her. Innocently enough, he went through asking her some routine questions; where had she been since their rescue, do-you-remember-when, sometimes I miss the island, that type of thing. It must have been only fifteen minutes later when she began to feel drowsy. She set her glass down and yawned, struggling to keep herself away. _Why am _I _the tired one? He's so wide aw-aw—_she yawned so large her jaw cracked—_awake_. It dawned on her suddenly. When she'd set the glasses down, she'd gone to get a couple napkins. And she hadn't been paying attention to his glass, hadn't noticed it was fizzing, which he probably caught onto immediately. She blinked rapidly, fighting it. He gave her a covetous smirk. She glared at him.

"Oh, you think you're such a first-class seducer, don't you?"

"Too bad you'll be asleep through it, but if you ain't willing anymore, I guess it's the only way. You can't con a con man, babycakes, and I am _the_ con man. I don't know what little scheme you were planning, but it's a boomerang."

She was so sleepy…the hardest she fought it, the heavier her eyelids grew, until she just couldn't keep them open anymore. Subconsciously, she heard the _clink_ of glass as her wineglass hit the hard wood floor.

"Please…" She murmured, falling victim to sleep. "Just…don't."

"Sorry, Freckles." He laughed. "Don't know what you're talking about."

He was gone by the time she woke up. Kate felt hollow inside, an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. _You knew that was all he wanted the first time you saw him on the island. Why are you so surprised that he didn't stick around? You're such a stupid girl, fooling around with him when you've got Jack._

Suddenly she saw his face, and she couldn't push _that_ feeling away, the feeling of what Jack would think. She saw the hurt look on his face, maybe tears, and now she felt like she had betrayed him. She got up immediately and began shoving her things into a bag. She knelt under the bed to grab her socks when her eye caught sight of the ring, _her_ ring; the one Jack had given her what seemed like years ago. She dropped her bag and took the ring. She had two choices: she would stay, or she would run. She could easily pawn the ring; it had to be worth hundreds, maybe thousands. She would disappear, go back to her old life without running the risk of being chased and hunted by police. Maybe she could forge a passport and leave the county, start a new life. She was pretty fluent in French and Spanish, and even knew some German, enough to get by.

But her mind went back to that day they were rescued, when Jack had stopped her. _"No more running," _That was what he told her. And she had promised him just that, no more running. Maybe he would understand why she'd done what she'd done with Sawyer. There had been too much tension between them for it to just die off. She was, though, glad it had happened now, instead of later. She put the ring back on and put her clothes in a hamper to take them to the washing machine in the basement. She put some of Jack's things in too. She wanted him to have clean clothes when he got home.

_There were times apart. There were times together. I was pledged to her through worse or better. When it mattered most, I let her down. That's the way it goes, it'll all work out. It'll all work out eventually, better off with him than here with me. Now the wind is high and the rain is heavy. And the water is rising in the levy. Still I think of her when the sun goes down. It never goes away, but it all works out._


	14. Kate: Are You Sure?

A/N: Sooo...how about that season finale! That stare between them at the end was just--wow. I don't know how I'll last until October, except now I'll put all my energy into this story. BTW, something Kate is considering doing might offend some people, but rest assured, it was not my intent or purpose to offend anyone, nor was I trying to force my own views on any of my readers. It's all for entertainment purposes, not persuasive purposes. Anyway, read and enjoy and review. And don't worry, the drama is just starting!

**KATE**

She was late. It hadn't worried her the first time; sometimes she skipped, especially being in prison and at times on the island. This was different though. She had missed last month, and now she had missed again, and it was no coincidence that she and Jack had always had unprotected sex, and then there was that day with Sawyer…too much had happened in March. The first time she'd missed she hadn't thought anything about it. But now…

She _had_ been wondering what it would be like to be pregnant…but not now. She worried, most of all what Jack would think. Would he hate her for getting pregnant so soon? It was the middle of May now…they were supposed to get married in July, but would he even want to marry her if he knew she was pregnant?

And then there was Sawyer…what if it turned out to be his? It was around that same time—but then again, she had been with Jack that morning, the day before, and the day before that. What were the chances that it could have been Sawyer's after she'd been with Jack only hours before? Still, she didn't even know if she _was_ pregnant.

She took $20 from the wad of bills that Jack had "hidden" in his dresser, along with some change, and walked through the gated community, out onto the main road. She was still a stranger to Boston, but finding a Walgreens was not as hard as she thought. As she entered the store, she kept her sunglasses on. She wasn't going to risk anyone recognizing her, even this long after the crash. She found the pregnancy tests and grabbed two, just in case. When she took them to the register, the cashier, a girl who looked about seventeen or eighteen, gave her a look. She chewed hard on her gum as she rang the boxes up, eyeing Kate's finger. Kate realized then that she'd forgotten to put it on that morning.

"You married?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

The girl scratched the side of her face with her fake nails. "Just wonderin'. I got an abortion last year. Messed around with some dumb fuck at my school. $17.22."

Kate handed her the money apprehensively. She didn't like discussing personal issues with careless teenagers.

The girl scribbled something on a piece of paper, and then handed it to Kate with her change.

"Just in case. Have a nice day."

She went back home and into the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she opened one of the boxes and read the instructions. It was easy enough. She'd taken one of these before, gotten the little blue strip, tossed the kit in the trash, satisfied with the negative results.

It was pink. They both were pink, both of them. She stared at the second one, at the little pink strip for what seemed like hours. It wasn't possible…and yet here it was. She shut her eyes and steadied herself on the sink. Her hand found the little card the girl had given her at the store. The address wasn't far. She could easily walk there and back in less than an hour. It wasn't as though she didn't want a baby, but now wasn't the right time, and there was always that little possibility that it could be Sawyer's, and that would ruin everything. It wasn't the baby's fault that Sawyer had done what he'd done to her, but she couldn't risk everything with Jack because of it.

She walked with a heavy weight on her shoulders. The place was tucked back from the other, more respectable places in town. Her heart pounded as she reached for the door handle, and then she stopped. What was she doing here? _You're running again_. The receptionist at the front desk looked at her through the door, took off her glasses, smiled at Kate. And she lost her nerve. She turned and ran, and didn't look back, didn't stop until she was back at the house. She threw herself down on the couch and let the tears fall. She told herself that she'd just saved herself from making the stupidest mistake of her life. Taking Wayne's life was justified; he was a horrible person. Taking the life of the baby who couldn't help being conceived didn't make sense to her. After all, if it turned out to have been Jack's anyway, she would have felt horrible. If it was Sawyer's…well…she didn't want to think about that. She wiped her tears, sat up, turned on the TV and waited for Jack to come home.

When he came home, tired after a long day trying to cheer up children who were sick and dying, she was there to kiss him on the cheek and let him know that she'd made lasagna. Her cooking was improving, and he told her so every night. She'd made cheese and vegetable lasagna, with garlic breadsticks, and as she took the dishes from the oven, he came into the kitchen behind her, taking in the aroma.

"Smells great," he said, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves. While she cut the lasagna, he rummaged through his cabinet and found a bottle of red wine. He uncorked it and poured two glasses, setting them on the table.

"Be right back," he told her, heading towards the bathroom to wash his hands. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't wash them in the kitchen sick, except for the fact that he'd once told her that if he washed his hands in the sink, the germs would stick around and get on the food that got washed in there, and then he'd just eat the germs he'd earlier tried to get rid of. As if the bathroom sink was any cleaner.

"Kate?" Jack's voice was soft, a little apprehensive.

"Hm?"

"Uh…can you—come here a sec?"

"What's wrong?"

"I—just…come…"

She wondered what was wrong. She made her way down the hall and to the bathroom. Jack was backed up against the wall near the bathtub, looking up at her, his face in shock. She looked at his hands, about to say something about germs, when she noticed he was holding the pregnancy tests in his hand.

"Jack, I—"

"When were you going to tell me?"

She kicked at the rug on the floor. "Dinner, I guess. It was supposed to be a surprise. I guess—I guess I forgot to throw those away."

He sat on the edge of the tub, frowning. She could have kicked herself. He was going to tell her how stupid she was for getting pregnant…

"I'm sorry."

He looked up at her, surprised. "For what?"

"This. I know it's probably the last thing you need now."

He scoffed. "Kate, I make one of the highest salaries in this city. I have all this money, and nothing to do with it. I donate half of what I make to charities and things like that. I give a fourth of what I have left to my mother, and I still have too much. Then you came, and in addition to me being happy to have you back, I was happy because I could spend money on you." He frowned. "You're very low maintenance though. But imagine—a baby, Kate. We can get a bigger house; we can't do much with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, especially if we want more than one. There's no room here. We start looking for houses now. We'll get married in June, and then we'll try to move out and move in our new place in July, and then—how far along are you?"

"Two months," she said, trying to keep her mouth from hanging open in shock. She hadn't expected him to be so…enthusiastic about this whole thing. And he still wanted to marry her too! "You're happy about this?"

"Are you kidding?" He grinned. "Now we have an excuse to be indulgent. We have to find out what it is as soon as possible, so we can decorate the room. Oh, god, Kate. We'll have a baby by December, maybe a born-on-Christmas baby. It'll be our first Christmas together. Our first _baby_ together."

Her heart sped up.

He grinned at her suddenly. "See? I told you, remember? That night I asked what you were thinking about, you said babies, and I said that w could get some later if you wanted. Remember?"

She smiled. "I remember."

He stood up and kissed her softly. "I hope it's a girl. I've always liked the name Lily." He went past her, and then took her hand. "Come on, Kate. Our dinner's getting cold."


	15. Jack: Delicate

A/N: Okay, I'm suffering from Lost withdrawl here. Reruns help, but it's not the same. I thought this chapter was reeeeeaaaalllly long, but probably because I type these on Microsoft Works where they're shrunken, and then upload them on Wordpad where they widen up a bit. Okay, so this is still a long chapter, but in writting it, I had to do a bunch of backtracking because some of the stuff needed a little research, like I couldn't remember if the name of the wife of Jack's friend Marc was ever mentioned, and whatnot. I fixed a ton of spelling and grammar errors in earlier chapters, nothing huge. Okay, enough blah blah.

**JACK**

When Marc's wife had gotten pregnant the first time, Jack noticed that his best friend tried to avoid her for as long as possible. Jack himself had been confused at the time. Of course, back then, he'd been such a workaholic he hadn't been home himself, except to sleep and maybe eat dinner, if he had an easy day.

Now that Kate was pregnant, he understood Marc's actions a little better. Three months in and Kate was more irritable than usual. She could be moody, and he was careful what he said to her, because she was starting to become self-conscious about her looks, something he had never know her to care much about in the past. She was barely showing, but complained that she was enormous.

They had gone down to city hall in the middle of June and gotten a marriage license. They were at first apprehensive—or to be more precise, Kate was—because her birth certificate and all of her official documents were boxed up at her stepfather's house in Oregon, the home of the man she'd thought was her father for years. She wouldn't say anything more, and Jack was concerned about having their baby out of wedlock (this was mostly out of fear from what his mother and family priest would say.) He went down to the library one morning while Kate was still asleep and looked upon information about anyone named Sam Austen living in Oregon. He got 13 hits—more than he expected. He printed each entry out and went outside the library to use his cell phone. The first number had been disconnected; the second had an answering machine, "Hey, Sam Austen here! Leave me a message after the beep, unless you're looking for Shelly, then quit calling!" It was a woman's voice. Wrong Sam. He tried the next five numbers, and none of the people who answered the phone said they knew anyone named Kate.

The eighth time he got lucky. A man's voice came on the phone. It sounded tired. "Hello?"

"Mr. Austen?"

"Yes, can I help you?"

"Well, I'm hoping you can. My name is Jack Shephard, and I was wondering if you have a daughter named Kate? Kate Austen?"

"Listen, Mr. Shephard, I'm an old man. I got enough calls when my daughter was on the run. I got more when people found out she was in that plane crash. I stopped answering my phone after they found the survivors. I haven't heard from my daughter in almost four years. She doesn't live here. Please stop calling."

"No, Mr. Austen, wait!"

The man sighed heavily. "Please, what do you want? I've had enough trouble from you people."

"Sorry, I should have explained myself sooner. You see, I was on Flight 815, and I knew your daughter. Know your daughter." Jack corrected himself. He continued quickly before the man could respond. "We were strangers when that plane crashed, but we became very close throughout our time on the island. She came to Boston in January looking for a place to stay, and well, it's a long story about all that. To get to the point, I asked her to marry me last month, but we can't get married without her official documents on hand. She told me they were with you. I was just calling to—I hope I'm not being forward, but to see if you could send that here, so we can go ahead with our plans."

There was a silence on the other end of the phone.

"Sir? Mr. Austen, are you still there?"

"Is my Katie alright?"

"She's at home, sleeping."

"What time is it in Boston now?"

Jack checked his watch. "Ten minutes past three, sir."

"She never sleeps in the afternoon."

"I think pregnant women have erratic sleeping patterns."

There was another long silence. Jack realized suddenly what he'd just said.

"Katie's pregnant?"

"Yeah…I don't know if she wanted to tell you herself or—"

"Mr. Shephard, like I said, I haven't spoken to my daughter in years."

"I'm sure she wants to speak with you. Maybe she just needs time."

"Are you the child's father?"

Jack was slightly taken aback by this. "I—uh…of course I am, who else would be?"

"Excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just—" Mr. Austen sighed again. "Give me your address, I will send them by express mail." After Jack repeated the address, he added. "Good luck with your marriage and new baby. Please tell Katie I miss her."

He hung up before Jack had a chance to say anything else.

When the papers arrived two days later, Kate was stunned. "How did you get these?" She demanded, looking at them. "These are the original copies!"

"I called your father and he sent them,"

She looked taken aback. "You called my father?"

He shrugged and eyed the papers. "You want to go today or wait until Saturday?"

She didn't say a word. Her eyes were fixed on the birth certificate. He bent forward to read along with her. His eyes caught the name in the space marked _Father_ that read Samuel Austen.

"Eileen?"

Her head jerked up. "Don't."

He fought the urge to laugh. "Your middle name is Eileen? I thought you were from Oregon, not Texas!"

"_Was_ Eileen. Don't laugh. I know it's dumb. I made my mother change it when I was twelve. Katharine Samantha. After my dad," She stared at the second piece of paper as she corrected herself. "My stepfather. I'm glad I did. Eileen was _his_ mother's name. I don't want anything to do with them."

"When my father–Sam–when he needed a kidney, I couldn't even donate mine to him because we don't have the same blood type and his body would have rejected it. If Wayne needed a kidney, I wouldn't have given him mine."

Her face had that set, determined look that said she wasn't going to say anything else. He sat there with her for a while, then got up and left her alone. She'd had these black moods before the pregnancy, and he knew that the best thing for him to do was to leave her alone and let it blow over.

That night, he was interrupted from his sleep by Kate's voice. He groaned in his quasi-conscious and glanced at the clock: _1:19_. He turned over to chide Kate for waking him up, and saw she was sitting upright, her back to him, holding the phone to her ear. She kept repeating, "Come on, pick up, pick up." Until Jack heard a slightly familiar voice say, "Hello?"

"Daddy? It's me, Katie."

There was the familiar silence on the other end, then he heard the voice say, "Katie?"

Jack turned over and forced himself back to sleep. They would have a lot of catching up to do, he thought to himself. Better give them some privacy.

She was up early the next morning, and cooked pancakes. Before going down to the city hall, he drove to the department store. She gave him a funny look, but dragged her to Saks and made her try on a few dresses.

"You can't get married in jeans and a t-shirt," he told her. She protested from inside the dressing room.

"This is stupid, Jack. I'm so pregnant, I can't even fit this thing."

"Kate, you're hardly even showing."

She opened the dressing room door and glared at him. He had to recover quickly from the shock of seeing her in a dress. Even with the bump of her stomach, the dress fit fine. It was a Marc Jacobs design, a soft pink gossamer fabric that was made in layers, so that the fine threads were more solid against her pale skin. It dipped low in the back, reaching just below her shoulder blades in a curve. The front was cut just low enough to hint at cleavage. It was almost if it had been tailor made for her. Jack had never seen her look so beautiful, and it nearly took his breath away.

"You look…fantastic."

She tilted her head to one side and smiled at him, an almost shy smile.

"You really think so? I don't look too fat?"

He laughed. "No, Kate, you aren't fat." His eyes were teasing. "Not yet."

She roll her eyes at him, then smoothed the dress at her hips. "I _do_ like the dress. But, Jack, it's so expensive. Six hundred for a dress?"

He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and shrugged. "If I don't spend it on you now, I'll just come back later and buy it for you."

"Couldn't we go someplace cheaper? I'm sure we could find this in another store."

"Not Marc Jacobs. It's a nice dress. You like it?"

She nodded. "Yeah...it feels–I don't know what the word is. You think it's okay? I mean, this isn't the real wedding, right? Just to get the marriage license so we're official? "

"Yeah, but I thought we'd dress up, even if it is informal. You can always get a real wedding dress when we do get married in a church, or whatever."

She went back into the dressing room and he leaned against the wall to wait for her. The place was deserted other than the two of them–not many people went shopping at ten in the morning.

"I heard you talking to your dad last night," he said while she changed. "He seemed, I don't know, kind of sad when I talked to him."

"The last time I saw him, I had just–I was on the run. That was when I told him I knew about Wayne being my father."

"Yeah, I wondered about that. I accidentally mentioned you being pregnant and he asked me if I was the father or not. Maybe he wanted to make sure our baby won't have to deal with what you went through."

There was a short pause.

"Kate?"

The door flew open and Kate had a stony look on her face. That confused him, and he instantly had thoughts of Sawyer finding their house, finding Kate. He knew that Sawyer was just that desperate to do something like that. And Kate was looking at him with those eyes, that same closed-off look she'd given him so many times on the island.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" He searched her eyes, but couldn't read them.

Now, she looked surprisingly defiant.. "No," she said simply. She managed a weak smile. "I was just thinking about–" There was that look again.

"Your father situation," he finished for her. She looked up at him with an expression of thanks.

"Yeah. My father situation."

There was an uncomfortable silence between them, broken by the loudspeaker overhead. Kate looked at the dress that was slung over her arm. "I want to go get married now." She said quietly.

He nodded, and took the dress from her, letting her follow him to the register. He paid for the dress, and by the time they were heading toward the car, Kate was her normal chatty self again.

"If it's a boy, what do you think of the name Thomas?" She asked once they were in the car and heading to city hall.

"Thomas?"

"Yeah, I used to know someone named Tom. We were good friends."

"Thomas. I like that. Thomas for a boy, Lily for a girl. What do you want, boy or girl?"

She patted her stomach. "I don't care, as long as it's healthy. You?"

He thought for a moment, not sure. As far back as he could remember, his family had had a history of only boys. His father was the eldest of four boys, and all of his cousins and their children were boys. There hadn't been a girl born in the family since 1894. Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to be the odd one out, the only one with a girl. His father, if he was still living, would want him to have a boy to carry on not only the family name (as if there weren't already enough Shephards in the family and the world) but the family practice. _Your son and your son's son and your son's son's son are going to be doctors, Jack. The eldest male in the family has been the doctor for over two hundred years, and I want you to continue the tradition._

"A girl." He said solidly. "And maybe a boy for later."

She looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. "Who said I was having another baby?"

He raised one of his own. "Who said you weren't?"

They pulled into the parking lot of city hall at quarter to eleven. Jack had to admit he had butterflies in his stomach as they walked up to the door, where both Marc and his wife were waiting for them. He introduced them to Kate, who smiled and shook their hands.

Jack and Kate went to the bathroom to change first; her into the new dress, and he into his old suit. His best suit was the one he had worn when he'd married Sarah, but he didn't want to bring up those memories. It was reminiscent enough that Marc had been his best man then, but this was his best friend, and it wasn't the same thing. Jack wore the suit he'd worn the day he'd first met Kate. Of course, the hole in the back had to be sewn back together, and it had taken some time to get the last remnants of blood out, but he'd gotten that taken care of the week before. He finished first and went to the clerk for the papers.

Marc came to him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Calm down, buddy, you're sweating like a pig."

Jack took the handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. "Was I this nervous before?"

Marc shook his head. "No, you were fine before. Chill, man. I'm sure she's a great girl. Anna and Lukas miss you, godfather."

"You should have brought them,"

"They're be running all over the place. Luke's getting into tantrums, and Anna thinks she's a queen because she's older. They're all over the place."

"Five and seven?"

"Five and seven."

"I want to take them to the Vineyard in August. I know they've been dying to–"

He stopped and took a deep breath. Kate had come from the bathroom, followed closely by Marc's wife. She looked different with make-up. He couldn't tell if the blush on her cheeks was real or cosmetic, but it didn't matter because she was _beautiful_.

She came to stand next to him, taking his hand in hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're so nervous," she whispered. "It's not such a big deal. Relax." She broke into a smile. "Afraid? Remember what you told me? You can let the fear in, Jack, but only for five seconds. That's all I'm giving you."

So he took her advice (really, his own advice) and let all of his premonitions and fears in, in five short seconds. And then, they were gone. The registrar gave them all pleasant but annoyed smiles, and pushed forward the paperwork. Jack signed. Kate signed. Marc and his wife signed, as witnesses. The registrar took the copies of their official papers, gave them a notarized copy of the license, and informed them that, once their papers were processed, which would take up to five business days, they would be notified of any problems (as in if they were closely related, had genetic defects that could be handed down, or anything else) and if everything checked out, would be sent a completely official copy. But they were as good as married.

The four of them went back to the house for drinks (Kate, of course, had to content herself with something non-alcoholic.) It was a good night. Not too surprisingly, everyone got along fine, even with Kate trying to play the shy card. The Silvermans left at half past eleven, and Kate and Jack were exhausted. She changed into pajamas, careful to hang the dress in his closet–a closet that was entirely too small for all the things that he wanted to buy her. He took off his suit and fell into bed in his undershirt and boxers, so tired that all he wanted to do was sleep. Kate crawled in bed next to him and snuggled herself into the niche of his body. They usually talked before going to bed, but on this day, neither of them was up to it. She was fast asleep in minutes, a record for her, but he wasn't far behind, laughing to himself as his eyes drooped. _What a way to spend your wedding night._


	16. Kate: Hard Headed

A/N: Another longish chapter. The next ones will be shorter, I had to get some exposition taken care of. Next chapter is Jack-centric, then the following chapter, you'll get to meet the Jaby! (Jack + Kate Jate + Baby Jaby, but no, I didn't invent the term. Cute, though.) The one thing I hate about is that you can't indent paragraphs, so it looks funny. Bah, oh well. Please read and review for me!

**KATE**

He was no help at all. It was only at breakfast that morning that he casually mentioned, "Charlie and Claire are flying in with the kids tomorrow afternoon,"

Tomorrow! Oh, wonderful. That left her about a day to clean up the house. He pointed out that she might as well start packing things away now, they'd move to their new house in August. She grumbled and kicked him under the table.

"That's alright for you to say, you get to go to work. I get stuck here cleaning. I shouldn't be working in my condition!"

He finished his orange juice, grabbed his jacket, kissed her cheek and patted her bulging stomach. "I'll see you two later."

After she finished her pancakes, Kate walked through the house, inspecting the damage and sighed to herself. It was going to be a long day.

Jack had gone to pick them up from the airport. The cleaning was done, but Kate wanted a chance to rest and "freshen up" before they got there. She was starting to really show now, and she couldn't wear half of the things she had now because of it. She had maternity clothes, but they were ugly and itchy.

Despite it being the middle of July, she took out one of Jack's sweaters and put it on. He'd worn it the other day and it smelled like him, a strange mix of colognes. She wore a long white skirt, one of her favorites, which surprised her, as she didn't used to like them. She could actually wear this one loosely; it was long and reached to just above her ankles, with an elastic waste, and fit nicely over her growing belly. She went into the front room and plopped down onto the sofa, waiting.

A little over an hour later, she heard the key turning in the door and voices outside. Kate felt a little nervous about seeing Charlie and Claire. It had been almost two years–and Aaron, he must be so big now. She sat up on the couch as Jack opened the door, followed by Claire, who was carrying a car seat, and Charlie, who was holding Aaron. Claire spotted her first, and set the car seat next to the door, hurrying over to Kate, who stood. They hugged, and Claire kissed her cheek.

"Oh, Kate!" Claire exclaimed in her still very Australian accent. "You look great,"

Kate laughed. "So do you, for just having a baby."

"Another boy," Claire said, shrugging a little. "I can't help wanting a little girl. But I'll wait until Patrick's a little older. You haven't met him, have you? Say hi to Charlie and I'll fetch him."

She went over to the car seat for the baby and Kate went to say hi to Charlie, who was talking to Jack. Charlie passed Aaron over to Jack and gave Kate a big hug.

"Look at you, Charlie," she said, laughing. "I never would have though you'd turn respectable." His hair was cut, and he didn't look so much like an ex-rock star, more like a middle-class father.

"What can I say," he said, grinning at her. "Claire works magic. Although I'm a little sleep deprived because of the little one. Aaron wasn't ever this bad."

She started to say something about this, but Aaron, as if on cue, let out a high-pitched scream as he struggled to get out of Jack's arms. "Want down! Daaa-deee!"

His wails got the little baby going, and soon the room was filled with their simultaneous screaming. Claire hurried to hand the baby to Charlie before taking Aaron from Jack and soothing him with a song. Jack looked almost helpless and apologetic. Kate went to hug him.

"It's okay," she whispered, as the babies started to quiet down. "Maybe he's just afraid of strangers,"

"Sorry," Claire apologized, hugging Aaron closer to her. "He didn't take a nap, so he's a little cranky."

She brought Aaron over to Kate, who hid his head in his mother's blouse. Claire tickled him a little under the chin.

"Hey, don't be shy, mister. Say hello to Kate. She helped you to be born. She's nice, isn't she?"

Aaron lifted his head to look at Kate, and she got her first real look at him. He looked a lot like Claire, the same face shape and he had her bright blue eyes and blonde hair. There was something un-Clairelike about his nose, she supposed that must have come from his biological father. He had two dimples in his cheeks, which Kate could see now that he gave her a shy smile. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with a dimpled fist. Claire put him down and he toddled over to Charlie.

"Is there a bed where we could lay him down, just for a nap?" Claire asked Jack as she took the baby from Charlie, who then picked Aaron up.

"Yeah, sure, you can put him in our big. It's big, he won't fall off unless he's a really wild sleeper. Come on, Charlie, I'll show you, then we can get started on the grill."

As the boys left, Claire and Kate sat on the sofa so that Claire could now finally show off the baby. It was easier to determine his features. He was awake, and Kate could see that he, like his big brother, had Claire's brilliant blue eyes. His nose was all Charlie, but in miniature, and his face shape was closer to Charlie's too, but a little rounder like Claire's. He looked up at Kate, blinking and kicking out with his fat legs.

"He only cries when he's hungry," Claire said proudly. "He's a good baby, not at all stubborn, like Aaron is. You'd think he really was Charlie's, as hardheaded as he is."

Kate held out a finger, which baby Patrick promptly took and put in his mouth. Claire loosened his grip on her finger and she was able to free herself. It hadn't hurt, it was mostly gums, but there was a little bump where she guessed a tooth was growing.

"Is he teething yet?" She asked, rubbing her finger on the couch to get the baby spit off.

"A little. He's just starting to get a tooth, but as long as he has something to suck on, he doesn't complain."

She gave him his pacifier and put him back in the car seat.

"Now!" Claire sat, sitting back next to her. "Do tell."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "Tell what?"

Claire gave her a skeptical look. "Oh, don't pretend like you don't know. You and Jack. Everyone knew you two would hit it off. Tell me everything."

Kate thought for a moment about what exactly to tell Claire. About how she'd called him from a bus station, how she'd fainted at the bus stop, how he'd nursed her back to health for nearly two whole days. No, that was far less romantic that something made-up. But Claire was so trustworthy, that she just told her the whole story, all of that, and about his sleeping pill revenge, how he'd gotten her clothes and spoiled her and about his riddles and she showed Claire the ring.

"Ohh, that's so romantic." Claire squealed, taking Kate's hand and inspecting the ring. "It's so pretty, diamond and everything."

"Yours is diamond, too," Kate pointed out.

"But yours is–I don't know what the word is. It's so pretty though."

Kate blushed.

"When did you get married?"

"Last month. We just went to city hall and got the license and everything. Jack wants to have a real wedding next spring."

Claire squeezed her into a hug again. "I'm so happy for you, Kate!"

Kate, who had always seen movies of girls giggling about this sort of thing had never thought it would happen to her. She found herself actually liking it, enjoying the feeling of having someone other than Jack, a female friend that she could share things like this with. She wondered if she should tell Claire about the baby, but Claire suddenly looked at her.

"Are you gaining weight?" She asked with a sly smile on her face. "Or–is it something else?"

Kate went red again, and gave Claire a half-smile. "Yeah, I am. December, I think. I have to go see a doctor next week. Jack's orders."

Claire threw her arms around Kate. "Oh, I'm so happy for you two! Do you know what it is yet? Or waiting?"

"We haven't decided, but I want a boy. Jack wants a girl. So we'll see."

"Nervous?"

Kate had to admit that she was. She had never really had any experience with babies, and being an only child to parents who were only children, she hadn't had any younger siblings or cousins to play with or take care of.

Claire gave her a comforting smile. "You just have to watch them. You'll learn their cries and things like that. When Patrick's hungry, he cries. When he needs his nappy changed, he makes little whimpering sounds and squirms, like he's uncomfortable. When he stops drinking his bottle, he's full and ready to be burped. You'll learn. Just don't expect on getting much sleep the first couple of weeks."

Charlie and Claire stayed for the next two days, and the four of them talked about life on the island, and their lives now, off the island. It was strange to Kate, looking at them, and at herself and Jack. If that plane hadn't crashed, they wouldn't be here. Claire had told her she was going to LA because she was going to give Aaron up for adoption. It was obvious from the way she was with him that Claire loved Aaron too much to even think about something like that now, and that went for the new baby as well. And she was so happy with Charlie. And Kate herself, she would have gone straight to prison, and would her mother have said anything then? She would never have met Jack, and this baby wouldn't exist. Even with all of the deaths and problems they'd had, to Kate, the crash of Flight 815 was the best thing that had ever happened to them.

The morning before the visit was over, Kate and Claire took Aaron and Patrick to the park. It was partly for them to get exercise, and partly because Claire told Kate she wanted to talk to her in private.

Claire the baby in his stroller and Aaron let Kate lead him by the hand.

They took them to the baby swings and Kate pushed Aaron while Claire watched.

"So, what was this big thing you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Do you really love Jack?"

The question surprised her. She stared at Claire, astonished.

"Of course I do. Why would you ask that?"

"Well, you didn't seem very excited when you told me about the baby."

Kate looked down, not feeling like talking anymore. Claire took Aaron from the swing and motioned for Kate to follow her to a small bench in front of a sandbox. She put Aaron in the sandbox and came to sit next to Kate again.

"Tell me, what is it?" Claire put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Kate wrestled with herself, wondering how much she should tell Claire. In the end, she broke down and told her about what had happened with Sawyer, and that she was afraid the baby wouldn't be Jack's, and that she was afraid to tell him. Claire listened through everything, and gave Kate a hug.

"You need to tell Jack. It's for the best. It wasn't your fault, and if you tell him, he'll understand that."

Kate nodded, and started to say something, but little Aaron ran up to them and tugged on her hand.

"Auntie Katie, swings 'gin!"

The two women laughed, and let the little boy lead them back to the swings.

On the 30th of July, three days after Charlie and Claire left with the babies, Jack and Kate headed to the prenatal clinic for her checkup. As they drove through the unfamiliar streets (to Kate at least) he told her he wanted to stay in the room with her.

"That way we can find out together what it is," He smiled at her

She jumped when Jack's cell phone rang. It was one of those default tones, loud and piercing, although she wouldn't have expected him to have anything flashy, in case rang if he was in the middle of a meeting. He picked up the phone and pulled into a parking lot to answer it. It was a bad habit of his, one he'd tried to explain before. He hated driving while using his cell phone, so he would always pull into a parking lot or to the side of the road to answer it.

"Hello?"

Kate leaned back in her seat and shut her eyes. She vaguely felt the baby kick, or move, just a little something to let her know it was there. She put her hand on her stomach, and looked at Jack. He was in the middle of an argument, which he seemed to be losing.

"I'm kind of–no, I could, but could it wait about an hour, I'm going–no, I understand. Just a minute." He took the phone from his ear and rested it face down on his leg.

"Kate, they need me at the hospital. I told them–tried to tell them I was busy, but I guess it's important...I don't want to go in, but I've had to take too many days off already,"

Inside, she was angry. Her hand slid from her stomach. _The baby's important too,_ she wanted to tell him. But she did want him to keep his job. She thought seriously about saying no, but nodded slowly.

"It's okay. I understand."

He didn't smile, and looked a little disappointed, but nodded in return. As he finished his conversation, she stared out of the window at the passing scenery. If Jack wasn't going to be there, what was the point of going today? They could reschedule for another day, couldn't they? But she would go, because she had to see if the baby was alright. When he dropped her off at the clinic, he gave her money for the bill and money for a taxi back to their house. She chewed on her lip as she watched him drive away, then turned and went inside.

He came home that night looking incredibly haggard. She was sitting on the couch in her pajamas, watching television, and when the door opened, instead of greeting him with a hug, a kiss, she ignored him. It was almost a tantrum, but she was still upset with him. He sat down next to her on the couch and stared at the television.

"One of my patients died," he said quietly. "They called me in for an emergency operation. I was supposed to save his life–I froze up. I couldn't remember what I was doing, and all I could think about was you and how angry I knew you were. I tried to save him. They said he was too far gone already, but I don't believe that."

"Don't blame me because you lost a patient," she replied coldly. She knew it was harsh, but she had that lingering thought in the back of her mind.

He glared at her, his eyes blazing with an anger she'd never seen before. "I wasn't blaming you. Do you think that's something I like having on my own conscience? You can't even begin to understand–"

"What it's like to kill someone?" She interrupted, her voice angry.

His eyes changed, still unsympathetic. "I didn't _kill_ anyone. I am not a murderer. It wasn't my fault they were like that in the first place. I didn't shoot them or stab them or do anything in cold blood. I'm not like you."

He might as well have slapped her. She lost all of her courage, and when she looked at him now, it was in stunned shock. Having realised the gravitas of what he'd just said, he opened his mouth, maybe preparing to apologize. She wanted to take Claire's advice. She wanted to tell him that the baby wasn't his, and she'd been a willing participant in what had happened with Sawyer. Instead, she got up and went into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it. She started to throw herself on the bed, but slid to the floor, tears pouring from her eyes. What he had said was true. She was a cold-blooded murderer. He wasn't the one who had hurt people, and he at least tried to save them. She had killed with intention. He had not.

A half an hour passed before she heard soft knocking on the other side of the door.

"Kate? I'm sorry,"

She looked at the door hard, wondering. He knocked again.

"Let me in,"

"No." She said loudly.

"Did you hear me? I said I was sorry,"

"I heard you, but what do you want me to say? That I forgive you for calling me a murderer? It's true, but you didn't have to remind me."

He didn't say anything for a while, and she heard him slump against the door. This was killing him, she realized. She was being selfish. He needed for her to comfort him, and she had accused him instead. She got up and unlocked the door. After a beat, he opened it and they stared at each other. He had been crying, but his reddened face was nothing compared to hers, so awash with tears. He reached his hand to touch her cheek, wipe away the tears, and she moved into his arms. She apologized to him over and over again, and he tried to hush her, his hands rubbing her back, making soft comforting noises in her ear. He lifted her up delicately into his arms and carried her to the bed. He sat with her in his lap, clinging to him, her arms around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder, sobbing like a little girl.

"I know you're sorry," he told her. "I'm sorry, too."

"I'm a good person," she told him finally, pulling herself out of his lap and sitting next to him on the bed.

"I know that. I shouldn't have said those things to you."

She leaned against his chest, letting him hold her. In his arms, she felt safe. She hated fighting with him, but reconciliation was sweet. She felt herself starting to nod off, and allowed him to peel back the blankets and put her in bed. He turned the light out and undressed down to his boxers and crawled in next to her. She moved closer to him, desperate to feel him beside her. He looked at her suddenly.

"Boy or girl?" His question didn't need explaining.

"I don't know. I told the nurse not to tell me. I didn't want to hear without you knowing."

He was silent, as if thinking this over, then said: "Healthy, right? Everything checks out fine?"

"Mmhmm," she muttered sleepily. "Late November, early December, they said."

He murmured something incoherent and she snuggled closer to him. She slept and dreamt of babies.


	17. Jack: Home Life

A/N: Randon Jate fluff to fill the space betweenthe lastKate-narration and the next chapter, which is the birth of the Jaby. I have a busy schedule for the Fourth of July, so the next one will probably be up sometime this weekend. Enjoy :)

**JACK**

Two years. He gazed up at the ceiling in their bedroom, arms folded across his bare chest. It was shortly after dawn on the morning of September 22. It hadn't hit him until moments ago that it was two years to the day since the crash. His mind was having trouble taking all of it in. It hadn't come up in his mind the day before. The crash wasn't so clear as it had been last September's anniversary. He felt tired too, not from lack of sleep, but almost weary. At thirty-five, he wasn't old, but he wasn't young, either. His father had been a year younger when he had been born. Only sixty-seven when he died. Jack's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't even gotten to bury his father. The boar had probably gotten to him. Even after what he'd done, it was a cruel punishment, a cruel fate.

Jack turned to look at Kate, who was still sleeping, her mouth open slightly, breathing softly. As the heat of summer faded into the chill of autumn, Kate had been wearing one of his oversized sweaters and her white skirt. But it had been a hot night, and both of them had striped to their underclothes. Jack placed one hand gingerly on Kate's bare stomach, gazing at it with amazement. Just as he was wondering whether he was touching the head or the feet, he felt a gentle kick against his hand. His eyes lit up and he grinned to himself. Another moment passed, and there was another little kick. _Definitely a girl_, he thought. _A boy would kick harder_. That was an old wives' tale, too medieval for a doctor, but he didn't care. He leaned up and placed a soft kiss where his hand had been. _She'll be a ballerina_, he put his hand back, hoping for another kick. _Soft, but strong._ He wasn't sure where the idea had come from so suddenly. Marc's daughter was enrolled in one of those ballet classes, and they'd often invited "Uncle Jack" to her recitals. He felt proud as Anna's godfather, but he wanted the thrill that Marc got, seeing his daughter dancing in a little ballerina's dress, waving at him while he videotaped the whole thing proudly. Kate sighed in her sleep and began to turn over, so he pulled his hand back before it was trapped underneath her.

Suddenly, her hand flew wildly and the palm smacked him in the stomach. He _oofed_ not expecting the sudden jolt of pain. She opened her eyes and squinted at him. "Hey," she said sleepily.

"Hey. I was just going to make breakfast." _Liar_.

"Liar, you were playing with the baby, I felt it."

He gave her a guilty look. She moved closer and put her hand–gently this time–on his chest.

"You have to work today?"

"Mmhmm." He put an arm around her. "Why?"

"Stay with me." She murmured, as she buried her face in his side and wrapped her arms around his neck. He managed to extricate himself from her sleepy form and pulled on a shirt. She had already fallen back to sleep. He kissed her cheek and went to take a shower.

---  
He came home earlier than usual, because there was something being delivered and he didn't want to miss it. Kate wasn't in the living room like usual. It worried him. He made his way to their bedroom. The door was closed, and he could hear muffled talking. He leaned his ear against the door, trying to catch snatches of the conversation.

"–my life and I hope you're happy with what you've done."

There was a short silence, then he head Kate crying, great shuddering sobs that made his heat break. He opened the door with ease; it wasn't locked this time. She was sitting on the floor, her face buried in the blankets on the edge of the bed, the cordless phone cradled in her lap. He came over and knelt beside her, concerned.

"Kate?" He put his hand on her shoulder. She jumped and looked at him in shock, her face red and her eyes pouring tears. He reached to touch her hair.

"Hey, what's the matter? Why are you crying? Who was that?"

She shook her head, and he let her cry on his shoulder, salty tears on his Armani suit. She recovered quickly, sitting up to look at him as she put on that false sense of _oh, it's nothing_. Something _was_ wrong, he could tell, but he didn't want to press her anymore if she wouldn't tell him now.

She looked up at him apologetically. "I just remembered what today is,"

He nodded. "Two years. Strange, isn't it?"

She had a wistful look on her face. "We never would have met. If I hadn't been a criminal, I wouldn't have been on the plane."

"Yeah, well, if I hadn't been a horrible son and my father hadn't been such a drunk, neither would I."

She frowned at him. "At least you didn't kill your father."

"Not directly. It was my fault he left."

"You didn't do it on purpose. Not like me."

It was true, but he didn't want to make her feel guilty. A beat of silence passed and the doorbell rang. Jack hopped up, pulling her to her feet.

"Something for the new house, but I had it shipped early."

She gave him a questioning look, but followed him to the front door. He answered. Just as he thought, it was the delivery men. Kate peered around his shoulder, trying to see what four men were struggling to remove from a truck. He'd paid in advance last month, but hadn't wanted to wait for them to move into the new house. The one who'd rang the doorbell handed him a clipboard, indicating where to sign, while Kate still peeked over his shoulder.

"Might wanna clear the doorway," The man said as Jack handed him the clipboard.

Kate gave a heavy sigh. "Oh, Jack, a _piano_?" She glared at him and went to sit on the couch, muttering about him wasting money.

Jack's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store as the men carried the piano through the front door. The fifth man went out and came back soon after with a shiny black bench. Kate's cleaning of his front room had left the room empty save for the couch, television and a chair, so there was more than enough room for the piano. Jack thanked them and all five filed out of the door.

Kate was still looking at him in disbelief. He didn't care at the moment, thrilled to run his fingers over the shiny black cover. He sat himself down on the bench, fingers over the keys, and began to play. He subconsciously felt Kate's eyes on him as he played, and heard her get up.

"What are you playing?" She asked, sliding next to him, careful not to disturb his playing.

"Beethoven. Sonata number...eight, the thirteen opera. Pathétique Andante cantabile."

She blinked, trying to take it all in. "Wow. All I can do is 'Chopsticks' and 'Mary Had A Little Lamb.'" She was quiet for awhile, listening to him play. It felt good to get this out, and he hadn't played in so long, but everything came back to him in seconds. When he was finished, he slowly removed his fingers from the keys. Music made him feel better.

To his right, Kate inhaled sharply, her hand on her stomach. He looked at her, alarmed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she was breathing quickly, but smiling. "I think the baby was clapping for you. It just started moving suddenly, right after you finished playing."

"She liked it,"

"She?"

"I think it's a girl."

They stared at each other for a moment. "A girl. What if it's a boy?"

"I think the next one will be a boy."

She looked at the keys. "Will you teach me?"

It would be a long time before Beethoven's operas, but she was a fast learner. She had mastered 'Ode to Joy,' by the time they stopped for dinner, and she seemed very eager to learn. They had years of practice ahead of them, and the way the baby had reacted, he figured he just might have another student in a couple of years.


	18. Kate and Jack: Drawing the Short Straw

A/N: Okay, I know I promised a Jaby in this chapter, but like two nights ago, I dreamed this entire chapter (I know, weird right?) and woke up suddenly and realized that I had to include it in this story. So I got up at 4 in the morning so I wouldn't forget the dream, and typed out this chapter which is dual-perspective (since I need Jack to be the one second person narrating when the baby is born but I needed him to do that in this chapter too) I'm almost finished with the next chapter, though, so I'll try not to leave you in too much suspense!

**KATE**

Kate was still getting used to the new house. It really was new, part of a development that had just been completed, a new neighborhood of homes for the wealthy. Kate felt out of place among the model housewives who had come with gifts for them the day after they'd moved in. When the doorbell rang, the two of them were painting the baby's room yellow. Kate wanted to decorate it with classic Winnie-the-Pooh, something a little old-fashioned. Jack wanted to build the crib by hand from wood, but she had convinced him to buy one, and he was going to put it together once the paint dried.

The sound of the doorbell startled them out of their teasing of each other.

"You answer it," Jack said, wiping a yellow-stained hand on his white t-shirt, much to Kate's chagrin. That would take ages to get out. She rolled her eyes at him, and went down the stairs to the front door.

The women–there were five of them–were like older versions of Shannon, dressed in designer outfits made for the chill of November, glowing with fake tans. She suddenly felt self-conscious about her maternity jeans and t-shirt. At the sight of her, the women's faces seemed to fall, as if they were expecting someone dressed a little nicer. One of them, discreetly pushed forward by the others, offered her a basket of fruit.

"There are some little welcome brochures about the neighborhood," she said stiffly. They stood for a moment in uncertain silence, until Kate heard Jack coming down the stairs. She turned to look at him, still wearing his paint-stained jeans and t-shirt, and Kate found herself unable to hold back a smile. If her appearance shocked the women, Jack's certainly would.

He stood next to her at the doorway, giving the women a polite smile. One suddenly turned to Jack with a strange look on her face, then her eyes darted to Kate. She heard the whispers begin, and realized suddenly that they had recognized Jack, knew who he was, about the crash, and had probably seen her mugshot displayed on television, knew who she was. They made their excuses and hurried away, looking back with faces of terror. Jack pulled the door closed and frowned.

"Well, that was rude. What on earth did I do?"

She turned and smiled at him. "It was either you looking like that, or them realizing I'm a exonerated felon."

---

"JACK!" She clutched her stomach. Something was happening, and she wasn't due yet, not for another three weeks. Or she had miscalculated, but that wasn't right, they'd told her back in July, and again in early September and only last month, she could look forward to a mid-December birth. Maybe it was a false alarm–but there was nothing fake about the powerful spasms of pain that came from justbelow her stomach.

Jack appeared in the living room, shaving cream still covering half of his face. He took one look at her and disappeared back into the bathroom. She gazed open-mouthed at him, disbelieving. She was going into labor and he was–who knows where. A sharp pain hit her again, and she struggled to the couch. Morning sickness was nothing compared to this. All the trouble women have to go through, and men can just sit by and pretend like they understand. That made her angry at Jack, who was still no where to be found. She yelled his name again and he suddenly appeared, his face clean-shaven with patches of stubble still left over, and spots of blood forming on the right side of his face. He had her bag in one hand (they had packed earlier in the month, just in case) and he was struggling with his shirt, jeans and shoes, while juggling her own. He dropped the bag on the couch and finished getting dressed before helping her with her shoes.

"It's time, isn't it?" He asked. She started to nod, but the pain was gone. He came to sit next to her, waiting.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," she frowned, thinking back to Claire going into labor with Aaron. Hadn't Claire had pains that went away, only to discover the baby truly was coming. She waited. Nothing happened. Something told her that it really was a false alarm. She put her hand on Jack's knee, taking deep breaths.

"No, I–I think I'm alright."

"You sure?"

She nodded.

"I think," he said slowly. "That we should go to the hospital, just in case. Just to see if the baby is alright."

"Okay."

He helped her up, and took her bag, holding on to her arm to help her out the door and to the car.

"Seat belt," he reminded her, as his buckled his own. "You never know what will happen. Especially," he continued, as he backed out of the icy driveway. "In this kind of weather."

---

**JACK**

He wondered what she was thinking, sitting there, staring out the passenger-side window. He found himself getting impatient, and a little nervous about the baby. He had almost wished she really was going into labor, but as long as she was alright, and the baby was alright, he felt he could almost wait another couple weeks.

It was mid-morning, and earlier the salt trucks had gone over the streets, but between then and now, more ice had formed. There weren't many people on the road. They were stopped by a red light when Kate turned to him and smiled. She touched his shoulder, and, seeing the light had turned green, he started to go. Suddenly, she squeezed his shoulder, hard. He looked into her wide, scared eyes, and turned his head to follow her gaze.

The car spun 360 degrees several times and Jack felt something sharp in his arm. He felt dizzy with the pain, and found he couldn't move his arm. Cold wind blew in from the windshield–the glass broken by the force of the crash. He moved his head to look at Kate. Her eyes were closed, but she opened them and turned her head to look at him.

"Jack–it hurts–"

If she had said anything else, he didn't hear her finish her sentence. Starting in his left arm, a flash of pain went through his entire body. He couldn't move his arm.Or the other arm. Or his legs for that matter. A jolt of fear went through his mind--he was paralyzed. No, he could still feel things, but his body was in shock, and refused to move. He tried to force himself to move. He had to help Kate. He tried to lift his left arm. A roar filled his ears, and the sound of a siren, and then a blinding flash of white. The violent pain hit him again, and he drew a sharp breath and lost consciousness.


	19. Jack: The House of Healing

A/N: The moment you've all been waiting for! I hope the cliffhanger was thrilling enough. Our dial-up got switched off last Thursday so we can get DSL this fall (of course, I won't even be here, I'll be enjoying super high-speed at college) so I've had to install AOHell in order to get online. I'd forgotten how evil it was. During my internet withdrawal, I re-watched Season One of Lost. It's amazing how much you re-learn. New hints, new clues. I'm dying waiting for season three, though, and I know most of you are too, so I hope this helps a little to tide it over. The thrilling conclusion (well, not quite, there's about five chapters left) where all (or most) of your questions are answered! Did I actually have a Jate dream (yes, and it was kind of realistically scary, if you know what I mean) Are Jack and Kate okay? Is the baby okay? Is the baby a boy or a girl? Is Kate ever going to tell Jack about Sawyer? and mostly importantly, why didn't Lost get nominated for more Emmys (okay, that I can't answer) but I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless:)

**JACK**

He came to in a hospital bed. His body felt stiff, but he found everything was working–he could move his legs, stretch the fingers in his right arm–his left arm was in a cast and sling, and it itched and burned. He frowned, and a jolt of pain struck his temple. His right hand brushed against what felt like stitches just above his eye.

He was sitting up in the bed and he saw to his left, a woman writing something on a chart. She looked vaguely familiar, and he suddenly realized they were probably at St. Matthais, the hospital he'd just started at only half a month earlier. Leaving the kids behind was hard, but he had realized it was worse to deal with kids who were going to die no matter what, than with kids and adults who he had a chance to save. They'd offered him a job as a surgeon here and he'd taken it.

He started to say something, and found his voice was a little rusty. He cleared his throat loudly, and the woman jumped. She gave him a mechanic smile. He hated these types of nurses. They wore fake smiles and usually made patients feel worse than before with their sugar-coated routine.

"Nice to see you're feeling better, Mr. Shephard," she said, coming over to him and looking at his arm. He wanted to correct her, _It's Doctor Shephard_, but he let it go. "The police were here," she continued. "Waiting for you to wake up. They left a long time ago, though. They wanted to know if you'll press charges."

He blinked at her. "What? Press charges, why?"

"The accident. Your car–nice, new car too, I hear. You got lucky. A couple witnesses say he hit you pretty hard."

"What–I don't understand..."

"They said the light was green, and a car was coming from your left that had been speeding to make it through the yellow light. They started to stop, but the roads were too slick, and he hit you. You must have hit your head on the steering wheel. Your arm was pinned between the door and it came out of the socket. They stitched up the gash and put your arm back in place. You'll have to wear that for a while," she indicated the sling. He tried to remember–he couldn't even recall hitting his head, it must have happened so fast. His shirt was covered in blood–dried blood, but blood. All he remembered was Kate and that look of fear and–

Kate.

"What happened to her?"

"Huh?"

"The woman I was with. She's pregnant, she needs–where is she? Is she alright?"

The woman gave him a sympathetic look. "I'll be right back," and left the room.

Jack's mind raced. Anything was possible. He knew she was alive after the crash, because he remembered her saying something to him. She had hurt, though. Where, and how badly? And the baby, too. Before he had time to fully realize anything, the nurse came back into the room, followed by a doctor, who poke and prodded his arm and looked him over slightly more thoroughly that the nurse. It hurt, but he had been worse off when he'd gotten hurt in the cave-in back on the island. He was probably too full of pain relievers and sedatives now to feel much real pain.

The doctor nodded to the nurse, who left again. Then he turned to Jack.

"I can take you upstairs if you think you're up for it. You can walk, or we can put you in a wheelchair, your choice."

"Kate's upstairs?"

He nodded.

"I'll walk." Something told him he needed to show her he was alright. Despite the sling and cast, he pulled himself from the bed without any help. The doctor pointed to a chair where his clothes were, and stepped out of the room to let him change. It was difficult, getting the hospital gown over the sling, then over his head. He finally got frustrated and tore it off, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the floor. He pulled off his shirt and struggled to get his pants on. He slowly removed the sling and put on the new-looking shirt, doing his best to button the buttons with his free hand, then putting the sling back on. He didn't know what to do with his own blood-stained shirt, so he draped it over his shoulder.

He wondered vaguely how long had it been since Kate told him she thought she was going into labor? Hours? Days? His watch was in his pocket, and he took it out and looked at the date: _November 30_. The watch read _5:12_ and it was clearly mid-afternoon, not early morning. So just a little over a day. He slid on his shoes and went out of the door.

The doctor said nothing to him as they walked to the elevator, only gave him a look of what seemed like disgust at the sight of his bloody shirt. He said nothing as they waited for the elevator, as it took them up to the seventh floor from the third, as he led him past a large window. Here, Jack stopped to press his face against the glass, scanning the sea of babies. _Ford. Miller. King. Hall. Gillard. Lorraine. Magnus. Torreno._ No Shephard. Not even an Austen.

"Yours isn't in there," The doctor said impatiently. Jack started at him, wanting an explanation, but the doctor urged him on. They passed several doors, until they stopped at room 725. The nameplate read 'Shephard,' and Jack felt able to breathe a sigh of relief. The doctor unlocked the door, and nodded to Jack, then walked back down the hall.

Jack opened the door slowly. She must not have heard him come in. Kate was laying, propped up on the bed, holding a little bundle in her arms, just looking at it. He saw a tiny fist break loose from the white hospital blanket and wave around a bit, before Kate leaned in to put the little hand back, whispering softly. He took a step forward, almost in awe, just watching. He'd seen her with Aaron, and with Patrick too, but she looked more like an aunt to them. He wondered where she had picked up this sudden maternal instinct.

When she lifted her head up slightly, still not noticing him, he saw her lip had a small cut, and there were bruises and scratches of varying size along her arms.

"Kate, are you alright?"

She nearly jumped, startled by his voice. Her hair hung a little limply, without it's usual curl, and she looked paler than usual. He moved into the room and went to sit next to her on the bed. She looked at him, then at the baby, running a finger over its cheek.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Jack. You okay?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured, starting to feel sleepy himself. He knew he had been unconscious, but he didn't feel like he'd actually slept. He did feel Kate squeeze his arm suddenly. She was looking at him and frowning.

"What happened? The car? Your arm?" She looked down at the baby. "I remember looking at you and–then I saw a car coming."

"My nurse told me the guy was trying to get through the light before it turned red. He was going too fast to stop and I guess he slid on the ice and hit us. She told me I hit my head on the steering wheel, but I don't remember it."

Her hand reached up to hover over his stitches. "Looks nasty,"

"I remember you told me, 'It hurts,' and that's when I passed out. My arm–" he indicated the sling. "It hurt–like it was being crushed."

"I do remember saying that. I saw you–you were bleeding." She glanced up at his shirt, looking almost sick. "I just remember spinning around and feeling dizzy and then my insides went funny, and I remember that's when my contractions started." She paused for a moment, thinking. "You got a funny look on your face and passed out. I was shaking you, and I thought you were dead. The ambulance came right away, and then they took you away, and they put me in a cold room, and then I had to have the c-section. They gave me anesthesia, so it didn't hurt. It was very quick. Born November 29, at 11:23 am, is what they told me. Seven pounds, five ounces. Twenty-one inches. Ten perfect fingers, ten perfect toes and very healthy for being early. No health problems that they could tell." She looked up at him. "It's a girl."

A miracle. Kate was relatively unharmed, just a few minor scratches and bruises from what he could tell, and she'd said the baby was fine too, completely healthy. Jack stared at the tiny sleeping baby wrapped in the hospital blanket. She didn't look premature at all, or have that wrinkly new-born skin. He once though that all babies, when they were first born, were ugly. He didn't think that anymore. Little wisps of black hair escaped from the little pink hat, so much like Kate's own. Under the closed eyelids, he imagined she had grey eyes now, but maybe later, they'd turn brown or green.

A girl. A daughter. _His_ daughter. The first Shephard girl born in the family in over a century. Kate was looking at him, a look he had never seen from her before. Pride, or joy, or both or something else, he couldn't tell. He suddenly found tears starting in his eyes.

"Do you want to hold her?"

He nodded. With the sling, he could only hold her with the right arm, but he could still manage. He looked down at her, so small, so tiny, so perfect.

"She looks like a Lily," Kate said watching him. He was a little surprised that she remembered his suggestion after all this time.

"Lily..."

"What's your mom's name?"

"I don't want to name her after my mother. My mother's a nag, and–"

"What's her name?"

"Margo. But I don't want to–"

"My mom's name is Diane. We can put them together--Mariane."

"You're very creative today," he teased. She rolled her eyes at him.

"She has my nose, I think." He said, wishing his other hand was free so he could touch the little nose. He was fascinated. He'd held babies before, but this feeling was different. Jack's heart swelled with the feeling of intense pride. He wanted to tell everyone, tell the world, about this baby.

"I think she looks like you," Kate remarked, peering at the baby between the blankets. "Same face shape. My eyes though."

"She doesn't really look like me yet. The hair, but you have dark hair, too. She's too small to really tell. And how do you know she has your eyes? She hasn't even opened them yet."

Just then, as if she'd been listening all along, the baby stirred in his arms, yawned, and cracked open her eyes.

"Oh..." Jack said softly, as her eyes met his. They were dark, not grey as he'd thought, but just as he leaned in to see if they were more brown or green, she yawned again and closed her eyes.

At this side, Kate herself yawned. She did look very tired, and probably hadn't slept. He joked with her, telling her she looked terrible. She raised an eyebrow.

"You should see yourself in the mirror," she said with another yawn. "You look like you did at Boone's funeral, Jack. No wonder the baby went back to sleep, you probably scared her."

He got up to put the baby in the little hospital cot near Kate's bed, then pulled a chair up to her bedside. "Going to drug my juice again?"

They both laughed at this, remembering. Jack glanced at the cot. "Has she been crying?"

"When they took her out and cleaned her up, she cried. They took her away to check her up, and then they brought her back and let me feed her, and she cried a little bit after that, but no, she doesn't really cry. She sleeps mostly. She hasn't been when she's hungry, she just whimpers a little."

"Yeah, for now. Just wait until we get her home and we're up all hours of the night trying to feed her."

"You'll be the first one up the second she cries. You'll spoil her."

He didn't want to admit to her that he was already planning on doing just that. Piano and ballet, he already knew he wanted for her. Kate would probably need to stay a few extra days so they could monitor her and the baby. And he'd go home and, injured arm or no, finish with the baby's room, and now that they knew it was a girl, he could go out and buy dresses and shoes and outfits and little pink ribbons. He thought about one of those little black satin dresses with red and green trim, something for her first Christmas. His first real Christmas with Kate, too. His mind raced with things he'd like to buy for her, and he realized he was thinking too much. _Come back to the present,_ his mind urged him. _Come back to the present and stop thinking so much. Just enjoy this moment with Kate and your daughter, because you won't ever have this again._

He turned to Kate to say something, and realized she'd fallen asleep. He smiled to himself. Looking at Kate, her dark hair falling into her eyes. He touched her face, smoothing back her hair, wanting to count each freckle on her cheeks.

"I'm proud of you," he whispered. "I wanted to be with you, to hold your hand. I'll make it up to you. Next time, I'll be there, I promise." He meant today, and all the other days

He held her hand, and even as he began to fall asleep himself, kept a tight hold. It had been a long week for both of them, especially with the accident. In the far reaches of his mind, he knew he'd have to go to the police. He wasn't going to press charges on the other person. He might have done the same thing. It would have been different if Kate had died, or the baby, or both of them, but they were both okay, and he was, injured arm aside, okay.

It would be a long day tomorrow. He would have to tell his mother, and Kate would want to call her dad. There was Marc, and their fellow survivors. It was strange to think that at their last gathering, when Patrick was christened, how different things were for everyone since the crash. To hear Jin speaking almost fluent English still surprised him. People looked happier. Some of the couples there were like he and Kate–strangers before that fateful day, some of them still dating, some engaged, some married. All of their lives changed forever by a plane crash. Jack silently thanked whatever force had brought them to the island–was it, like Locke had one said, the island itself? If he hadn't betrayed his father, if his father hadn't gone to Australia, if he had gone to Melbourne instead of Sydney. If his father didn't like to drink so much. If the woman had told him he couldn't board the plane without the documents for his father's body. If he'd missed the flight. All these things played over and over into his mind, but really, they all arrived at the plane itself. Whatever it was that had led him to that island had led him to her, and if it hadn't been for that, he wouldn't have this moment right now with her.

His eyelids grew heavy and he slept.


	20. Kate: Plaisir d'Amour

A/N: Yikes! All this past week I've had to work reeeeeaaaaally long shifts at work, so I go in at 4 and come home at midnight, and I'm so tired I don't even want to turn on my computer. I managed to write this all in about three hours, minus some distractions, last night, so I'm all tired out. I actually got really bored and wrote a oneshot sequel to this story which I think I'll post when I'm all finished with this story. It's like 20 years in the future, but I won't spoil it for you guys, you'll just have to wait in agony until this story is finished, which should be in about four or five chapters that I already have totally planned out, so they'll be easy to write. 'Kay, have fun :)

**KATE**

The week following the baby's birth was busy. The hospital wanted to keep both Kate and the baby in for monitoring, just as a precaution. Kate was not the type of person who enjoyed sitting still for long periods of time. They'd been moved down a floor to the recovery room, and if things went well, they would be going home within three days. Lily, now six days old, was flourishing, eating well and full of movement. She still didn't cry very much, but for Kate, that was a blessing.

Jack's mother was the first visitor to arrive. She was just as he had described, a formidable woman. She barged into the room almost without warning, and certainly without knocking.

Kate had been resting and Jack was holding the baby, walking her around the room and talking to her, when the door opened. Kate opened her eyes and saw a woman in her sixties with brown hair enter, followed quickly by Kate's nurse. The nurse looked exasperated and eyed the woman.

"Dr. Shephard, this woman–"

"My mother, yes."

The nurse nodded in sudden understanding, and backed from the room, shutting the door after her. The woman looked at Jack standing in the middle of the room with Lily, with barely a glance to Kate.

"Ah," the woman said suddenly. "This must be my granddaughter." She went to Jack and took the baby from his arms.

Jack threw Kate an apologetic glance before turning back to his mother.

"How'd you know, Mom?"

"I was coming to visit you, actually. You didn't return any of my calls about meeting me for Thanksgiving, I was concerned. Your neighbor said something about a car accident, and so naturally I was worried. They said you were fine. Then they mentioned that Mrs. Shephard was still here in the maternity ward, and you would mostly likely be up with her. Imagine my surprise, Jack, I didn't even know you were married. When were you going to tell me?"

Kate had already decided there was something about his woman she didn't like. She might have been Jack's mother, but she had that false rich woman's aura about her.

"We just got the license. We're going to have a ceremony next summer, Mom."

Jack's voice had that annoyed grown-up son tone to it, bothered by the questions, but trying to be respectful at the same time. She'd taken that same tone with her own mother plenty of times. Jack's mother just brushed it off.

"What's her name?"

"It's Kate, Mom, I've told you about her before,"

"Not _her_." Jack's mother said in a low voice. "The baby,"

While Jack talked with his mother, Kate suddenly realized exactly the problem–her. Jack's mother hadn't looked at her or said a single word to her from the moment she had stepped into the room. She had the feeling that Jack's upper-class mother wasn't too pleased that her only son had not only gotten married and had a baby without telling her, but that her new daughter-in-law was a self-described white trash farm girl from Iowa with a criminal past. She suddenly wondered what Jack had told his mother about her.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed next to her and she and reached over to touch his arm. He brought his hand back to entwine with hers and looked at her with a weary smile and nodded toward his mother.

"I'm sorry. She's just stubborn,"

"Like you," Kate interjected.

"It must be hereditary." He said with a laugh. "She'll calm down once she gets over the initial shock."

She gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "I take it that I'm not the type of girl you used to bring home for dinner with your parents,"

He shook his head, silently laughing at her, and started to get up. She pulled on his hand, but he shook free and went over to his mother. Kate pouted, something she had always hated to see other girls do, but had lately discovered it got her things she wanted. He didn't see it, or come back, but was talking in hushed tones to his mother. They seemed to be having a heated argument about something, and Kate had a sour feeling that it had something to do with her. Finally, they broke from their little conference, Jack with Lily in his arms. He came back, sitting back in his spot next to her on the bed. His mother came over and stared at Jack with unreadable eyes, then, at last, turned to Kate, holding out a hand.

"So nice to meet you, dear. You can call me Margo." It was so sickeningly sweet the way she said it, Kate thought she would be sick. Instead, she took the woman's hand and shook it politely, keeping on her best behavior for Jack's sake.

"Nice to meet you as well. I'm Kate. Jack has told me so much about you." It was a lie, but if his mother was going to be like that, she might as well play along. "I'm glad Lily will have a grandmother around."

Margo frowned. "Oh, what happened to your mother?" It was almost a taunt. Kate ignored it.

"She–died last year. Cancer. My father still lives in Iowa, but they were divorced when I was little. Stepfather's dead now."

She felt Jack shift uncomfortably next to her and hoped he wouldn't say anything. He knew the truth.

"What were you in jail for?"

Kate stared. She hadn't expected this. She opened her mouth, but Jack cut in.

"I don't think that's a very appropriate question, Mom."

She saw the older woman raise an eyebrow at Jack, who shrugged.

Kate felt some sort of anger building up inside of her. Who did this woman think she was? "They said I killed my father." Kate said with a shrug, keeping her voice clear and as emotionless as possible. "He was a jerk. Left the gas on one night, and he lit a cigarette. Blew the house up. I wasn't even there when it happened. "

There was a silence in the room, broken only by the baby's sudden cry. Jack was still gaping at her, so she took her daughter from his arms and looked up at Jack's mother.

"Would you mind, she's hungry."

The woman huffed and left the room, almost slamming the door behind her. Jack gave her a look.

"I have to go after her," he said, starting to get to his feet. She nodded.

"I know."

"She thinks I'm making a horrible decision. Told me I'd regret it."

"Do you?" She turned her attention away from him as she adjusted her hospital gown so that she could feed Lily, gently rocking her daughter in her arms.

Jack reached over to brush a hand over the little girl's curly black hair. "No regrets," he said firmly. "I have a beautiful wife, a beautiful daughter. What more could a man want?"

"We're such a weird couple," she told him. That brought a smile–a real smile–to his face. He was about to say something else, when his mother entered the room, looking suspicious.

"There is a large man in the lobby. He claims he knows you. He's trying to bribe the woman at the desk."

Jack and Kate looked at each other with a smile. "Hurley."

"Tell them to let him in, Mom. He's an old friend."

She gave them both a skeptical look, then disappeared into the hallway. Kate pulled the protesting baby from her and handed her off to Jack, who proceeded to burp her while Kate fixed her shirt.

"I wonder how he knew?" Kate said, glancing at Jack, who was now cradling Lily in his arms.

"I called everyone, just to let them know. I'm sure there was a standard birth announcement in the paper. Called your dad, he said he wanted to come."

The thought of seeing her father after so long jumbled the emotions inside her. They had spoken twice on the phone since that first call, but seeing him face-to-face? That made her nervous, but she missed him too much.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

There was a loud knock at the door that made them both jump.

"Come in!" Jack yelled at the door. The both hear the knob jiggling several times before the door burst open and Hurley entered the room.

Kate put a hand over her mouth to hide a wide grin. He had lost weight and it was noticeable, but he still seemed the same to her. He moved into the room, giving them both a huge grin.

"Hey!"

He went to Kate and managed a hug before turning to Jack. He looked at the baby curiously.

"So...is it a little Jack or a little Kate?"

"A little of both actually," Jack said, then, seeing the confused and astonished look in Hurley's eyes, added with a smile, "A girl. Her name's Lily."

"Awesome. Hey, little Kate." Hurley shook the baby's tiny hand. "Kinda looks like you, Jack."

"Want to hold her?"

"Aw, no, I'm not good with holding babies. She's cute though. I saw Sayid and Shannon pulling into the parking lot," Hurley said, suddenly digging into his pocket. "Got something for you, Kate."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What, like a present?"

"Yeah, kinda like that. Here," Hurley said, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket. "Ten thousand."

"What?" Both Jack and Kate stared.

He handed her the stack of bills. "Ten thousand. I bet you double or nothing you couldn't hit that golf ball. I lost, so...I kind of owe you some cash."

Kate stared. "Where'd you get ten thousand dollars?"

"Lottery," he said, so nonchalantly as if Jack had asked him the weather. "Buy something for the kid from Uncle Hurley."

Kate stared open-mouthed at the wad of bills. "You can't be serious. Hurley, I can't take this!"

"Dude, look, if you don't, I'm just going to go buy a crapload of stuff and have it all sent to your house."

Kate glanced at Jack, who shrugged. "Might as well. Thanks, Hurley."

"What are you doing in Boston?" Jack asked. "I mean, I only sent out the announcements two days ago. Don't you live in LA?"

"Yeah, I was visiting family here. Saw something in the paper, you know, I figured there could only be one Jack and Kate Shephard. Went with my gut instinct, and what do you know." He laughed. "Oh, and Libby says hi. She had a busy week, couldn't get off work, but she says congratulations and everything."

Kate started to ask him something else, when there was another knock at the door. Kate looked up, expecting to see Jack's mother again, but it was her nurse instead.

"There's more people here to see you, a blonde woman and a Middle Eastern looking guy."

"Send them in, they're old friends, too." Jack told her. The woman nodded, glancing at Hurley, then back to Jack and Kate.

"They have a little girl with them, but she won't be able to come back here. For safety and health concerns."

"It's fine, we'll be getting a lot of visitors. I'm sure one little girl isn't going to matter."

The nurse looked skeptical, but she nodded and left the room, leaving the door slightly open as she went.

"Am I the first?" Hurley asked, watching the door.

"No, Jack's mom is here." Kate answered, her eyes turning to the door as well.

"I mean, of us. You know, the survivors."

"You are, yeah," Jack said. "First, but definitely not the last."

In a moment, Shannon and Sayid appeared in the doorway, Sayid leading a little girl by the hand. Kate didn't know that they'd had a child, Jack had only mentioned them living together.

"We drove down last night, right after we heard," Shannon said, giving Kate a cheery smile. After the adults finished their greetings, Jack introduced Lily, and Shannon cooed over her. Jack let Shannon hold the baby, and Sayid shook his hand. Kate watched as Jack then bent down to say hello to the small girl in a blue dress, clinging to Sayid's leg.

"Her name's Soraya Nadia," Sayid told Kate, patting his daughter's curly brown hair. "We call her Sori though."

"She's pretty," Kate remarked, watching as the little girl let go of Sayid's leg to give Jack a hug, then ran to do the same to Hurley.

"How are you feeling?" Sayid asked her, moving closer when Jack vacated his place to answer some question Shannon was asking.

"Better," Kate wrinkled her nose. "Though the food here sucks, and they keep trying to stick needles in me and poke me to see how I'm doing. And I hate sitting still."

Sayid smiled at her, shaking his head. "I would have thought you'd be tearing your hair out. You were always restless."

"Jack helps," she said, nodding toward him.

"He is good with children," Sayid nodded in agreement, and for a moment, the two of them watched Sori climbing onto Jack's back while Shannon tried to convince Hurley to hold the baby.

"I'm afraid that when they let us go home, I'll just be stuck in bed there. Jack's here most of the time, and when Lily cries or fusses, he's there before I even open my eyes."

"You will appreciate it in time," Sayid told her. "We put Sori to bed each night at eight. She slept five hours straight, then awoke at one to eat, and at two hour intervals until nine that morning. You'll be too exhausted to do it on your own, if your daughter is anything like that."

She watched as Jack lifted Sori to peer at Lily, now in Hurley's arms, wide-awake and watching the faces around her. _He'll be a wonderful father._ She thought to herself, laughing with everyone else as Sori jumped on Jack again, and he grabbed her in a hug to tickle her, her delighted shrieks echoing in the room.

---

Lily was a week old the next day, and Jack had already used up the memory card in his digital camera. They'd gotten pictures with Hurley and with Sayid, Shannon and Sori, and in the midst of these celebrations, Michael and Walt had arrived. The receptionist was becoming increasingly frustrated with the sudden stream of visitors for the Shephard baby, coming all hours of the day, that Jack had eventually told her to just let people in, and not to worry about visiting hours. If he hadn't been a doctor at the hospital himself, hadn't had the right connections, the woman might have turned people away. But he did, and so she didn't, and Sun and Jin had come in the morning with their little boy, Tai, and Marc and his wife, with their two children. Over the next three days, more old faces turned up. Charlie had called to let them know that he and Claire had been planning to fly in, but a snowstorm in London had grounded all the planes. They sent their congratulations, and promised to visit again when they could, even extending an invitation for Jack and Kate to bring Lily to London when they could.

Jack's mother lingered, sometimes sitting in the room, always leaving when more visitors came. She was staying in the guest bedroom of their house, with the understanding that she could stay until the New Year if she wanted, as long as she didn't pester Kate. They hadn't said much to one another, and Kate couldn't tell if this bothered Jack or not. If it did, he never said.

At ten days, Kate was up and walking around. Lily they wanted to keep just another four days, and so Kate elected to stay with her. She liked having her daughter close, to play with her tiny hands, watch her sleep. She had a funny way of sleeping, Kate mused. She'd ball her hands into tiny fists and rest them against her dimpled cheeks. When she was awake, Kate liked to just look at her, trying to find herself in the baby's tiny features. Her eyes were more green than brown, but her hair was all dark, fine and soft. She smelled like baby powder. Jack couldn't stop taking pictures, but she couldn't blame him. She was such a pretty baby.

Jack left that morning to pick up another memory card for his camera. She tried to get him to buy a disposable camera in the lobby gift shop, but he insisted on going hi-tech. She rolled her eyes at him.

Taking the baby in her arms, she walked to her window. It was overlooking the parking lot below, not a very appealing view, but Kate watched Jack walking to his car. She propped the baby up against her chest and waved her little hand at the window.

"Wave to daddy," she said softly into her daughter's ear. "He'll spoil you. You don't know yet what a lucky little girl you are."

Lily gurgled in response, leaning her head back against Kate's chest to peer up at her. She astonished her like that, her baby. Kate's heart felt warm.

"Knock, knock," came a voice in a low Southern drawl. The warmth faded to cold. She hugged Lily to her tightly, too tight. The baby squeaked in protest. She loosened her hold, but not too much. She heard him come further into the room and turned to glare at him.

"Hello, Sawyer."


	21. Jack: The Lady is Disloyal

A/N: Okay, I know, I'm horrible for leaving you with such a horrible cliffhanger and I feel so sad because I did the same thing in this chapter. Good news, though, is that everything will be resolved in the next chapter, and Kate will tell Jack the truth. What you need to know right now is that Sawyer is a sneaky, jealous bastard who would say anything to get what he wants. I'm almost done with the next chapter, so the cliffy won't be so terrible, but today (July 25th) is my birthday, so it won't be up probably until the 27th. I'm also working on a 7-part story (which may later get a sequel, I don't know yet) that is coming, and I also finished a oneshot sequel to THIS story which takes place in the future at Lily's wedding, but I don't want to spoil things, so read on!

**JACK**

It was cold. Of course it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out, but that was the truth, it was cold. He wondered if the hospital gave them some sort of winter blanket to take babies home in, or if he was supposed to provide one himself. This was the sort of thing plaguing Jack's mind as he pulled out of the Best Buy parking lot. As someone who had grown up in Los Angeles, he wasn't exactly used to the snowstorms and freezing cold. Kate had grown up in the cold, she didn't worry about the weather. It was probably hard on babies, and in a large city like this, even where they lived on the outskirts in one of the richer neighborhoods, the hospital just couldn't afford to give out cold-protection clothing to every single newborn that was born there. So it was with this in the back of his mind that he pulled into the large mall parking lot. He normally hated these places for their inconvenience. He would want to buy clothes, then get hungry and have to walk to the other side of the building just to get to the food court, and then want to get his watch fixed and have to take an elevator down to the first floor and go through a series of walkways, then find out the watch store had moved back up on the second floor.

Today, though, he wasn't complaining. He searched the mall directory map for baby stores, and headed for the Baby Gap on the second floor. _It had to be near the food court_, he thought, as he passed the mix of delicious smells coming from the large cafeteria. He was tempted to stop and stuff his face, but resisted the urge, going instead into the small, brightly-lit store. It hit him suddenly that since they didn't know if they'd be having a boy or a girl, they hadn't gotten any baby clothes, save for the generic things like socks and onesies. He'd spent his time at home the past ten days finishing up the baby's room, but buying clothes, that hadn't even crossed his mind.

A woman came up to him as he started to look around, with a smile. "Excuse me, sir, can I help you?"

"Yeah," he nodded, looking around. "Yeah, I think you can."

It was a long hour before he was finally on his way back to the hospital. He had bought almost all of the newborn girls' clothes in the store, anything that he could find. He'd thought about just buying every article of girls' clothing in the store, up to 3T, but that would have been even more expensive, and there was no telling how fast Lily might grow out of what he'd already bought. When he told Kate how much he'd spent, she'd probably have a heart attack.

After dropping the bags off at the house, he drove back to the hospital with a smaller bag that contained some warm winter clothes, pink and yellow. His space the parking lot was empty to his surprise. He grinned to himself, trying to imagine the look on Kate's face when she read the price tags.

He pulled open the door, entering the room. His eyesight locked first on Kate, who had Lily in her arms. "Hey, Kate, I went–" His voice trailed off when he saw who was sitting in the chair next to the bed.

Sawyer.

The muscles in Jack's jaw tightened. He didn't have any lingering vendetta against Sawyer anymore, but the fact that he was there–alone–with Kate and the baby, something about that irritated Jack. Sawyer turned to look at him with that cocky grin on his face–that irritated him too.

"Doc,"

"Sawyer." He replied plainly, leaning against the wall. "I don't recall inviting you."

"Word gets around. You know there's a Flight 815 website that gives updates on what our little club's doing? Invasion of privacy if you ask me, but there you are."

"What do you want, Sawyer?"

"Jack..." That came from Kate, in a warning voice, almost a plea.

"What, can't a man visit his old friends without warning? Some kind of crime? 'Course Freckles would know all about that kind of stuff, isn't that right?"

Kate muttered something, too quiet for Jack to hear. Sawyer laughed. "Well, I hate to intrude on this happy little family scene, so I'll hit the door."

He got up and started past Jack for the door. Jack suddenly grabbed a fistful of Sawyer's shirt in his hand, stopping the other man's movements.

"Jack!" Kate's voice was shrill, but he ignored it, his heart pounding in his ears.

"You gonna hit me, doc? In front of the wife and kid?"

Jack narrowed his eyes, tightening his hold on Sawyer's shirt. "Don't come back here. I don't want you anywhere near her. Near either of them, you understand?"

Sawyer scoffed. "Anything you say, hero." He threw a backwards glance to Kate, then pulled himself out of Jack's grasp and left the room.

There was a beat of silence, and Jack went to take the seat previously occupied by Sawyer. He found Kate's hand, squeezing a clump of the blanket, and ran his fingers over it lightly.

"You okay?"

She nodded. She didn't look okay.

"How long has he been here?" Jack asked her.

"An hour, maybe longer, I don't know. He got here after you left."

Jack sighed, running a hand over his close-cropped hair. "What happened?"

"He just came in. Started talking. Wanted to hold the baby, but I said no, I just fed her, she was sleeping. She _was_ sleeping, Jack. He kept asking to hold her, but I told him no. She was so good, she didn't even wake up."

Jack stared at Kate, for a moment alarmed. She looked distressed, and he immediately looked at his little girl, afraid she wasn't only asleep. He moved to take the baby from Kate's arms and gave a relieved sigh when he heard her soft snoring.

"Your daughter," Kate muttered, as she let him take the baby, sinking herself back into the pillows.

"Our daughter, Kate." He said firmly, rocking the baby for a moment, just to feel her. He was shocked to hear her sniffle, and then start to cry. He stood and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, hugging her to his side. She cried on his shoulder for a while, then sat up and looked at him.

"He won't come back," Jack told her, although he was half trying to convince himself the same thing. "I promise."

She looked at the baby, touching her cheek. Lily made a little noise, shifting in Jack's arms, then opening her eyes to look around the room. Jack handed his baby back to her mother and stood.

"I'm going to go to the cafeteria and get some coffee."

Her hand shot out to grab his arm, her fingers tightening around it. "Don't leave me alone," she pleaded, searching his eyes with her own. Had Sawyer done something to her? Said something? He didn't want to leave her alone, but he couldn't be in the room every second with her. He'd have to tell her nurse that Sawyer couldn't be allowed in here. When he told her this, she looked slightly less afraid.

"If you go and come back. Don't stay long, promise?"

"Promise. Just to find your nurse."

She let go of his arm, and as he headed for the door, he felt her eyes watching him. When he got to the door, he looked back at her and gave her a reassuring smile. The one she returned reassured him too.

The side hallway was deserted. In their little block of six rooms, it was just Kate and another woman. He didn't know her name, but he'd seen her husband once or twice and knew they'd had a little girl as well.

Jack stopped just outside the door, checking his watch and wondering if he'd have time to get a coffee from the cafeteria. He could always tell Kate that it had taken longer than expected to find the nurse. That would be a lie, his mind told him. That much was true. He cursed himself silently for not stopping before he'd taken the elevator up, or even at the Starbucks he'd passed on the way home. He hadn't had coffee that morning, and he was starting to feel odd because of it. He started down for the lobby, but the heavy smell of cigarette smoke stopped him in his tracks.

Sawyer was leaning against one of the doors to an empty room, smoking. Jack frowned at him.

"You know that's against the law. You're not supposed to smoke in hospitals."

"Wouldn't be too concerned about what I'm doing, I were you."

"I thought I told you–"

"Nice kid, by the way." He blew out a puff of smoke. "Hell, even looks like you, but, well, I'd want to know for sure."

Jack stared. "What are you talking about?"

Sawyer flicked his ashes on the floor. "Got her momma's eyes, I think. She wouldn't open 'em, so I couldn't tell. You both got dark hair. Kid's got dimples, though. Neither one of you got 'em."

"It skips generations," Jack said, wondering where this was going. "Two of my uncles and some of my cousins and their kids have them."

Sawyer shrugged. "Just thought you might want to know."

"Want to know what? What the hell are you talking about?"

Sawyer chuckled. "Ah, doc, the things I could tell you."


	22. Kate: You’re Not Him, She’s Not His

A/N: Oooh, titles! I got writer's block while doing this chapter and decided to rename my chapters using song titles, which I will give info on in my acknowledgments in the final chapter. The chapters used to be named, then I couldn't think of any more good names so I took those away but now I want titles again. So, could this title be any more scary? Could go either way, but am I that evil ;) When I first wrote this, I actually intended for it to go a different way (Kate seduced Sawyer, not what he actually does in this version) but then I changed that. Then Kate was going to be in even more of a jam because she discovers she's expecting twins, and what will Jack say when she tells him, blah blah blah. Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's full of angst and drama and important plot events! BTW, thank you to **Mystery Island** for reminding me that I totally forgot to have Locke visit. Gah! Since I'd already finished this chapter by the time I got her review, he'll appear in the next one. And I mixed up chapters so this is really chapter 22, and everyone with story alerts probably got two notifications. Ignore the other one.

**KATE**

"Shh, baby, Lily, please, don't cry."

Kate stared at her little girl, watching the infant in her arms grow red in the face as she wailed. Kate wished Jack would come back and do something. The baby wasn't hungry, didn't need a diaper or to be burped. Jack would know what to do. It suddenly hit her that she really didn't know much about babies. Of course feeding and burping and changing was easy, but what did you do to entertain a crying baby?

Without warning, Lily uttered a gurgle that sounded vaguely like a burp. Kate breathed a sigh of relief as her baby stared up at her with wide eyes and kicked out her chubby legs, showing off something that resembled a smile. Kate smiled back and took Lily's hands in her own, playing with her. The baby gurgled and made contented noises. Kate thought her nose was definitely Jack's longer nose instead of her shorter, rounded one. She wondered if the baby would have freckles. There were none now, but Jack, from his baby pictures, had very light freckles, and Kate had had them all her life.

She heard the door open and saw Jack enter the room slowly.

"Get your coffee?" She asked, glancing up at him. Her face fell when she saw the look on his. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, staring at her.

"You okay? Jack?"

"When were you gonna tell me?"

She frowned, confused. "Tell you what?"

"About you–and him."

Her mind, sharpened from years of living on the run, was already formulating an excuse. She had already decided not to tell Jack the truth about what had happened with Sawyer, after wrestling with herself for days. It was better for him not to know, and Kate figured the baby looked enough like Jack for it not to matter anymore.

"Nothing happened," she said with a straight face. "He's bullshitting."

Jack moved slowly toward her, his eyes watching Lily sharply.

"He told me–"

"When did you talk to him?"She interrupted. Sawyer had left, hadn't he?

"He told me he came for a visit. When he was in town, he was coming to ask me down to some bar with him, remember the old times. When I left for London."

"No, he said he knew you were in London for Patrick's–shit." She had just blown her story and she hadn't even gotten to fully tell it yet. Her eyes dropped, his hard stare seemed to burn through her like fire.

He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was dangerously soft. "She's not mine, is she?"

Her head snapped up to stare hard at him. "What?"

"He told me you answered the door and you kissed him. He said you tried to drug him. Some kind of aphrodisiac." She stared at him in disbelief at the lies Sawyer had told him, but let him continue.

"Said you wouldn't let him leave until you'd–" He stopped, unwilling or unable to go on, he didn't know. He shut his eyes for a moment, then gave her a hard look.

"That's eight months. They said Lily was early. I was gone for almost a week. I was gone for–gone for–" His voice faltered as he looked at the baby, quiet in Kate's arms the whole time. "How could you?"

"It's not true," she said, squeezing her eyes shut, counting the fear away just like he'd taught her. "He followed me back from the airport. Yes, I tried to drug him. With those sleeping pills, Jack. How would I have gotten an aphrodisiac? You keep pills like that in your house? His whole story's flawed, Jack. I wouldn't kiss him. _He _kissed _me_. I put those sleeping pills in his wine because I wanted him to go to sleep so I could call someone to take him away. He switched the glasses. He–I saw him before I blacked out. I knew what he was going to do. I wasn't awake when it happened. I didn't want to be awake. I didn't want it to happen."

"I wish I could believe that, Kate." His look was worse than disbelief–it was bitter disappointment. She hardened herself, determined not to cry in front of him.

"You don't trust me? I'm your–I'm your wife, Jack." That felt strange to say, even now. He needed to hear it as much as he did.

"No offense, Kate, but you've always had problems with the truth."

It stung, and she hated him for it. "No offense, Jack, but I'm telling the truth."

He shrugged, sliding into the seat next to the bed.

"How do I know you're telling the truth? You and Sawyer, you've always had something. You should have told me sooner."

"He _hurt_ me, Jack. Do you know what _that's_ like? No, I wasn't awake when it happened. It still happened."

"Not mine," Jack said softly.

"What?"

"She's not mine," Jack repeated, louder, looking at the baby. "She's not mine, is she?"

"She looks just like you. Everyone said it, you heard them. You think she looks like Sawyer? Take a look at her eyes, her face. She's got your nose. She's yours, Jack," Kate said, her voice shaky. "And I'm yours, too. You shouldn't have to doubt that. You know I wouldn't lie to you, not about something like this."

"She has dimples, Kate. Do you have dimples? I don't. You have dark hair, you have green eyes, just like she does. She doesn't have a face shape, she's an infant. It's baby fat. Her face will change shape as she grows."

She hated the way he was looking at her, like he didn't trust her anymore. She pressed the baby into his arms and he looked away, not giving her back, but earlier, where he had cuddled the baby, he just sat there with her gurgling up at him.

"Look at her face, Jack. How could you doubt that she's your daughter?" He wouldn't look at her. He wouldn't look at either of them.

"_Look at her_!" She pleaded. He ignored her, getting up and putting the baby in the little hospital cot. He turned his back on her and started for the door, without turning around. He paused before opening the knob and spoke to the door.

"I'm going for my coffee. I brought things for the baby. Winter clothes." He pulled open the door.

"Jack, wait!"

To her surprise, he turned to look at her. She could see how deep the pain was etched on his face. He looked older, weary. In their first and last weeks on the island he had looked like this.

"Will you be back?"

"I don't know. I need to take a walk. Clear my head."

"Okay." She tried to crack a smile, but couldn't. "I'll be here."

He started out the door, then turned to look back at her.

"My cousins have dimples. I'm told it skips generations. My mom's got them, too." As an afterthought, he added, "Yeah, I'll be back."

He did come back. He apologized, told her he believed her. She couldn't understand why he hadn't believed her in the first place.

"You know how I get when people tell me things that start me doubting something. I believed him at first. I should have believed you all along, but it seemed so true. When you told me, I did believe you, but there was still that thing about Lily being his. I had to get away for a while. Let it sink in, even if I could just look at her and known that it wasn't true. I had to take some time to get over it."

Kate fiddled with the hospital bracelet around her wrist, watching Jack play with Lily.

"I asked the nurse about a test, you know, just in case–" she said softly, hating to interrupt the moment. He looked up at her.

"No," he said abruptly. "I don't even want to consider it. I signed her birth certificate. She _is_ mine. Always has been, always will be. Anyway, you said it happened after we went to the airport. Even if she was conceived that day, remember the bathroom? Anyway, he might have used a condom."

"He didn't," Kate said curtly.

He frowned. "How do you know? I thought you were out..."

"I _was_," she said. "If he hadn't, he wouldn't have come. He asked if she was his. I told him no, 'cause she isn't. If he'd used one, and he heard about me being pregnant, he would have known she wasn't his."

"They're not fool-proof,"

She gave him a look. "Stop it."

He shrugged, going back to play with the baby. Lily gurgled happily, clutching Jack's finger in a tiny fist.

"We're going to forget this," Jack said slowly, tracing the patterns on the baby's pink jumper. "Everything. I won't bring it up again, and you won't. This was all just a bad memory. Okay?"

She nodded. "'Kay."

"Got a surprise for you. At home."

"You already gave me flowers," She said, taking one of the long-stemmed roses from the flowerpot on the bedside table to smell it. "And the lilies-of-the-valley."

"Those aren't yours," he pointed out. "They're for the baby."

"Thank you, Jack. For, this, and for Lily and for saying yes."

He leaned over to kiss her, letting his fingers brush her shoulder. "You're welcome."

They took Lily home two days later, with much fuss from their room staff. Their nurse, Wendy, waved goodbye as Jack led them from the room they'd occupied for two weeks. Other people in the hospital who either knew Jack or knew of them from the crash wanted to see Lily, whom they had dressed in a pink shirt with a pair of tiny pink denim jeans, wrapped in a yellow fleece blanket, decorated with sheep. Kate, used to jeans and t-shirts with sneakers was wearing dark khaki pants, a brown sweater and a long, light brown velvety fleece coat. She complained about the boots, slightly heeled, and he told her he'd get her a better pair later. She was almost afraid to ask him what he'd spent on this outfit, and all the others he'd told her were waiting in their closet at home. He told her wait until she saw Lily's room.

A fresh layer of snow lay on the ground outside, though the parking lot had been shoveled clean earlier in the morning. At their car, she let Jack load the baby into the car seat while she climbed up front. Two weeks sitting in a hospital bed waiting and watching over her baby. She was happy to be home.

Jack drove slowly, and she could tell he was being extra cautious after what had happened do them. She didn't blame him, with their beautiful little girl in the backseat, she wanted him to take any precautions necessary.

To Kate's surprise, their house was decorated modestly with Christmas lights. In the light of the morning they weren't on, but strung all over the house and the two evergreen trees in the front yard. She had almost forgotten Christmas was two weeks away.

The inside of the house was even more of a shock. He must have worked nonstop to finish the decorating. Paintings she had never seen before adorned the front hallway. She gazed around, speechless, while he carried Lily beside her. He motioned for her to come into the large living room, and she grabbed his arm, stunned, when she saw the tree.

It was inches from the ceiling, decorated with lights and more fancy ornaments than she'd ever seen. Her own Christmas trees as a child consisted of a small tree decorated with popcorn strings and cheap colored lights from Wal-mart. This was the kind of tree she'd always dreamed of, a beautiful, decorated, fancy tree. At the top, was a beautiful angel decoration. And as she moved closer, she saw that sitting on the mantle near the fireplace, was a smaller tree, a tiny gold star on the top. There were no lights or fancy ornaments on this tree, just two smaller decorations. She saw they were picture frames, one reading, 'Baby's First Christmas,' the other, 'Our First Christmas.' They were both empty. She turned and gave Jack a quizzical look.

"For us. That one–" he pointed to the frame with the sleeping Precious Moments baby angel on it. "–is for Lily. And this–" he pointed to the one that had a carved wedding cake on it. "–is for us. We have an appointment to get some pictures done later this week. They'll be ready just in time for us to send copies to everyone and put them in there for Christmas Eve."

She ran her fingers over the two frames. As beautiful as the larger tree was, she felt much more for this little tree that would mean the start of all their memories together.

"You did all this?" She asked, touched. "Jack, when did you do all of this? How did you find time to do all of this?"

"Not all of it. I had some help. I haven't shown you the best part yet. We can go to see the rest of the house later, but I thought you'd want to see–"

He moved back into the front hall, toward the stairway. She started to follow him, but he put out a hand to stop her. She gave him a curious look, but he shook his head with a cheeky smile, handing Lily to her.

"Mom?" He called up the stairs. "We're home. Will you bring down Kate's present for me?"

She watched the stairway, glancing at Jack questioningly. He grinned at her. She frowned at him, almost impatiently. What on earth was he–

"Katie?"

Her attention turned back to the stairs, where her father stood at the top landing, looking down at her. He looked older than she remembered, almost worn and tired. He was only in his sixties. She had done this to him, made him age from worry about her.

She watched him make his way slowly down the stairs, followed by Jack's mother. He made it to the bottom, taking a few steps toward her. Without thinking, she ran to him, and he pulled her into his arms, hugging her fiercely. "I didn't call them, Katie." He whispered, his voice shaky. He pulled away only when Lily uttered a squeak of protest, and stepped back, one hand resting on her arm. She hadn't noticed the tears running down her cheeks until now, watching as he gazed, tears in his own eyes, at the granddaughter who wasn't biologically his. Kate pushed that to the back of her mind, allowed a thousand other burning questions forward. Her father answered one of them for her.

"Your husband says I can stay for Christmas."

"I told him he could stay as long as he wanted," Jack added, coming to stand next to her. She threw him a look of gratitude that spoke volumes.

"Dinner's almost ready," Jack's mother said, coming down to join them. "My son tells me the one good thing I can do is cook pasta. Something healthy for you dear, to get your strength back up. I can't imagine that hospital food did anything for your figure."

She went toward the kitchen, nodding at Jack.

"You want me to take her?" He motioned toward Lily, who had settled back into a comfortable sleep in Kate's arms.

"No. She's fine. She'll be hungry soon. I want to talk to my dad."

He squeezed her shoulder, and nodded to her father. "Thanks, Mr. Austen," and followed his mother into the kitchen. Her father sat in a chair in the front room, smiling at her, a real smile. She gently put the baby into his arms.

"Your granddaughter, dad."

He beamed at her, and at the baby. "His mother said you named her Lily. Not very you, Katie."

She shrugged, letting her daughter wrap her tiny fist around her index finger. "Jack picked it out. I like it. She looks like a lily."

"What's her middle name?"

"Mariane. For his mother, and for Mom."

"Your mother would have been proud. I know I am."

She hugged him again, mindful of the baby. They had a lot of catching up to do. Three phone calls was not enough. And with Jack's assurance that he would be here until Christmas, maybe longer, she knew they had all the time in the world.


	23. Jack: Crying in the Chapel

A/N: A short note from me to open this reeeeeeaallly long chapter. I mean long! It's like seven pages on my WordPerfect. The worst part is, it was almost longer because Jack was going to make a wedding speech about meeting Kate, but I decided not to include that, since everyone reading this already knows how they met, so you can just pretend like he made a speech and people cried and Jack cried and blah blah blah. After this chapter, there are only two more chapters and an epilogue, plus a oneshot sequel. I'm getting sad, this story has been part of my life for almost a year, and now it's drawing to a close. I hope you all like this one :) BTW, do me a favour and read and review my other story, Cold, Cold Heart. If you like Fate, you'll be depressed, because the outcome is totally different.

**JACK**

Jack had never been particularly good at weddings, whether it be his own, or other people's. He tended to get overly emotional, as his mother called it. A sign of weakness, his father would say, and for a moment, Jack wished the older man were here now. He'd talk Jack through it in the way that his best man and groomsmen weren't.

Sweat ran down his face in tiny droplets, causing Marc to groan in frustration. He tossed Jack the handkerchief from his lapel pocket.

"Keep it," his best friend added when Jack made a move to give it back. He didn't have any place to actually put the piece of cloth, so he stuck it in his pocket.

"Thanks for doing this again," he said with gratitude.

"Actually, this would be the third time, including the one last year."

"Yeah, don't remind me," Jack said with a grin. "I owe you big time, man."

"Sure, so how about you start paying me back by not being so damn nervous?"

It had been Kate's idea that Charlie and Hurley should be his two groomsmen, as the two of them had been the couple's biggest proponents back on the island. No one had a better "Jack and Kate should hook up," joke than Charlie and Hurley, but right now, neither of them were being much emotional support to Jack. They had both taken Marc's side.

"Shit," Jack muttered, pulling the handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow again. _This is ridiculous_, he thought to himself. _You put yourself under pressure in the OR all the time, and you can't get through a single wedding ceremony without getting nauseated? What the hell is wrong with you!_

He glanced down at his Armani suit, wondering if he'd spent too much on something he was probably only going to wear once.

His mind clouded and his vision became blurry. He saw the ground coming up to meet him quickly, and blanked out. The next thing he saw were the faces of Marc, Charlie and Hurley hovering anxiously above him. He blinked. He was sitting back against the wall in the dressing room. Hurley was the first to react, reaching out an arm to shake Jack.

"Hey, dude, are you alright? How many fingers am I holding up? What's the date? What's your name? How old are you? What color's the sky? What's your favorite number? What–"

"Whoa, Hurley, slow down, mate." Charlie said quickly. "Give the man some breathing space."

Jack rose to his feet amid protests from the others that he should sit down. "I'm _fine_." He said firmly. "Four fingers, June 17, 2007, Jack Shephard, going on thirty-six, blue, 815." He raised an eyebrow at Hurley. "Anything else?"

"No, you're cool," Hurley grinned.

"You sure you're alright, Jack?" Marc asked. "Never known you to pass out before."

"It's _hot_," Jack argued, knowing full well that his nervousness was the main factor. He checked his own pulse. He felt fine now. He wasn't tired anymore; it had been four months since Lily had last required two am feedings. He felt strange, though. He hadn't seen Kate or Lily for the past three days. After his bachelor party (which was more or less an excuse for all of the men to get ridiculously drunk, since he technically hadn't been a bachelor for a year) four nights ago, the women had dropped by to "kidnap" his wife and daughter to get them ready for the ceremony. He found himself missing them, missing waking up at six in the morning to inhale Kate's scent, hold her while she slept. Missing going in to check on Lily, who refused to use a pacifier, and sucked on her thumb instead.

He was sitting there, thinking about this when he realized Hurley was talking to him.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said, why 815?"

"As horrible as this sounds," Jack said, straightening his tie. "If we hadn't crashed, I never would have known all of you guys. Well, not you Marc, but I mean, everyone else. Good friends. Memories. Meeting Kate."

"Should I have gone with you to Australia?" Marc asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, spending six months on a deserted island? No job, no junk food? Sounds like paradise."

"Yeah, right." Charlie said with a scoff. "I mean, if you're into getting chased by wild boar and smoke monsters and–" He looked to Hurley and Jack for help.

"A crazy French chick?" Hurley offered.

"Being attacked by polar bears," Charlie said.

"Exploding psychotic high school science teachers," Hurley said.

"Getting kidnaped by a weird Canadian guy who probably wasn't really Canadian." Charlie said.

"Same food day after day after day after day after day," Hurley said.

They both looked at Jack, who was silently thinking of something to add to the conversation. Something Kate had told him once long ago popped suddenly into his head.

"Um...being stalked by Southern perverts?"

Charlie looked at Hurley, who looked at Marc, who looked at Charlie. All three of them looked at Jack.

"Yeah, maybe not paradise after all," Marc said with a short chuckle.

"Wait, no, never mind." Jack said quickly, trying to take it back. Hurley snorted.

"What island were you living on?"

"Yeah, Jack," Charlie put in with a grin. "Anything you want to tell us?"

He waved it away with his hand. "I remember someone saying that. Not _me_," he said with emphasis.

There was a short knock on the door, and an usher poked his head in. "We're ready for you."

"You gonna be alright, Jack?" Hurley asked as he and Charlie made their way to the door. Jack wasn't sure what to say.

"He'll be fine. He's got this thing about weddings. Gets unnecessarily nervous. He threw up in a flower vase for about five minutes during my reception."

"Yeah, at mine, he passed out in the men's room and no one could find him for an hour." Charlie said with a grin.

"Thanks for bringing that up, guys."

"No problem," Charlie and Marc said simultaneously. When the other two had left, Marc clapped him on the back. "Hey, buddy, relax. You're already married, this is just an excuse for you to make a big deal out of it."

"I hate weddings, you know they make me nervous."

"You won't regret this one," his best friend told him. He nodded to Jack before the pair of them followed Hurley and Charlie out of the room.

He felt the sweat beads forming again as the wedding march played and the doors to the back of the church opened. He wiped his forehead with the back of his head when the people turned in their seats to watch the doors.

He finally felt able to relax, as the corners of his mouth raised in a slight smile as he watched an usher urge the children out: Aaron, their ring bearer, who had been horribly cranky the previous day at the rehearsal, but now appeared on his best behavior, waving to the familiar faces in the pews and nearly dropping the pillow he carried. Without his ring, Jack's hand felt strangely empty.

Walking a step behind came Marc's daughter, Anna, the flower girl, who was holding Lily in her arms. Jack broke into a full smile when he saw his baby, laughing happily as she grabbed fistfuls of flowers and tossed them onto the floor. She was wearing a white dress that stopped just at her ankles, showing off her little white patent leather shoes. Her dark hair was starting to curl like Kate's. Her eyes were more his brown than her green. As the children got to the alter, he made eye contact with his daughter. The baby shrieked when she saw him, struggling to get out of Anna's arms.

"Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad!" She hollered, to the amusement of everyone. That was how it was with her. He had never been 'Dada,' or 'Daddy' or 'Papa,' but she went straight for 'Dad.' Kate was 'Mama,' but he was 'Dad.'

"Uncle Jack?" Anna whispered with pleading eyes. It was obvious that his seven-month-old daughter was too much for his eight-year-old niece. She half-leaped into his arms as he leaned down to take her, and she snuggled against his chest, sucking her thumb.

Shannon and Sun, Kate's bridesmaids, were now making their way down in aisle, followed by Claire, the maid-of-honor. All three of them looked beautiful, but he looked past them, still watching the door. For a moment, the music stopped, and a hush fell over the crowd. Jack inhaled sharply, and breathed again when he saw Kate enter the room on the arm of her father.

She had complained and berated him for months about the dress. It was going to be too expensive, she said, and for something she would only wear once? He protested, telling her it was worth it, and besides, Lily could wear it when it was her turn, and they would have a daughter-in-law someday, and she could wear it.

It wasn't a designer dress, but hand-sewn by a friend of Jack's mother. The measurements were exact, and nothing stuck out in odd places. That meant that now, as she made her way slowly down the aisle, beaming up at him, the white silk hugged every curve of her body, a perfect fit. A white sheen veil hung down her back, held in place by a wreath of flowers intertwined in her hair. As she got closer, he saw they were orange blossoms.

They stopped at the end of the aisle and Jack watched almost jealously as Kate received a kiss from her father on the cheek. Sam Austen nodded to Jack with an almost fatherly look. He moved Kate toward Jack and placed Jack's hand (the one not holding onto Lily) with Kate's. Then, he stepped back to sit in the front row pew, next to Jack's mother.

Kate smiled at him, and at Lily, giving him a quizzical look. He shook his head and shrugged, and she nodded. He laughed to himself that they could even speak without words and understand each other.

The ceremony went by surprisingly quick. When they said their vows, they looked into each other's eyes, both feeling the unchecked assurance in their words, the simplicity of the "I do's." Lily grew heavy in his arms, but he couldn't bring himself to put her down or give her to his mother. She was as much a part of this as either of them, and despite the growing numbness against his arm, she had been surprisingly good throughout the ceremony, her little outburst earlier aside. For a while, Kate had taken one of Lily's tiny hands in one hand, and Jack's in the other. She let go only when they needed to put the rings on. He had little trouble with Kate's, even with Lily in his arms. Kate slid his ring on, her fingers trembling slightly. He let his hand cover hers, and she smiled, an almost secret smile. When they kissed, there was a fierce cheer, and Kate's cheeks burned red. He smiled at her, laughed. She put her fingers to his lips, and Lily, thinking it a game, seized Kate's fingers in her tiny dimpled hands, giving a happy squeal as she tried to put them in her mouth.

Jack let go of Kate's hand to free her other one from the baby's grip. As the noise died down, the organist began to play again, and the two of them waited, watching as Claire, Sun and Shannon led Aaron and Anna back up the aisle, followed by Marc, Charlie and Hurley. Kate reached to take Lily from him, and the baby reached eagerly for her. "Mama!" The absence of Lily's weight took some of the strain from his arm, and he shook it to get rid of the numb feeling. Behind them, the priest gestured them forward, and they turned, starting up the aisle. The sea of mostly familiar faces looked back at them, some still cheering and clapping. They were nearing mid-aisle when, at his side, Kate's breathing quickened.

"No one in the world but us," Jack murmured, easing his hand into hers. "Me, you, Lily. They're just another audience."

She glanced over at him. "I'm not worried about it. It's just, we have to go out and everyone has to congratulate us right after this, and you know, Jack, I really have to pee."

He couldn't help erupting into laughter.

They stood in the lobby, Jack once again holding on to the baby. Kate had run to the bathroom quickly before the guests started filing out of the chapel. Claire held Aaron, who was starting to get sleepy, sucking his thumb in his mother's arms. Lily, on the other hand, was wide awake, gazing with a child's curiosity at all of the people smiling at them.

Locke, looking odd wearing a suit, came to them with a smile on his face. He shook Jack's hand and kissed Kate on the cheek, congratulating them. The animosity that Jack had once felt for Locke was gone. In this, back in the real world, he had no reason to be wary.

"Sorry I missed getting to meet your little one," he reached out a hand to pat Lily's head. "Can't figure which of you she looks like most." He studied her face as if trying to read it, like a hunter trying to study a trail. Lily put her hands out onto Locke's face, as if matching his gaze, staring at him for a moment, then pulled away shyly, burying her head into Jack's suit. Locke tilted his head to the side, rubbing a hand over his bald head with a smile.

"She's a little shy," Kate said, rubbing the baby's back.

"Don't know which of you she got that from," Locke joked. "You sure you didn't kidnap her from someone else?"

Kate's nails dug into the palm of his hand and he understood why, but they were supposed to put that behind them. Jack shook his head, half-forcing himself to grin.

"Just around strangers. Gets that from her mother."

Locke nodded, and glanced behind him, where several others were waiting. He held out his hand again, and Jack shook it.

"Congratulations, again. Best of luck, to all three of you. I'll see you at the reception,"

"Thanks for coming, John."

Locke started to walk away, then turned to Kate and gave her a smile. "Congratulations." He nodded again and moved on.

While one of his mother's friends cooed over Lily, Jack threw Kate a questioning glance, then nodded in the direction Locke had disappeared. She shrugged, turning to smile at the elderly woman. Jack placed a kiss in his daughter's dark, curly hair and she smiled again.

Jack gazed out at the group some seated at tables, others standing, couples and single dancing, everyone spread out around the large party hall in the hotel lobby: old friends, new friends, his mother's friends, Kate's father's friends, the crash survivors. It was well past eleven, and most people were already drunk. He silently thankful that all of the children had been sent to back to stay at his beach house, being watched by a pair of well-paid nannies. Kate had been so busy talking with everyone since their reception began, he'd hardly gotten to say a word to her. They'd done all the traditional reception activities earlier, everyone raising a wine glass to toast the not-so-newlyweds; Kate throwing her bouquet, caught by Shannon, who turned bright red; Jack throwing Kate's garter, caught by Charlie amid shouts by the unmarried men of unfairness.

He eyed the clock on the wall, wondering when it would be alright to start escorting people back to their rooms. He was starting to feel bored, wishing he was back in Boston, or at the very least, back at the beach house. His eyes wandered, spotting Kate on the dance floor with her father, laughing. He didn't know what song was playing; Hurley and Charlie had declared themselves unofficial DJs, and they had been half-forced to listen to Driftshaft for the first hour of the party. Since Charlie's self-promotion, he remembered only that they'd listened to Damien Rice, Patsy Cline (Kate's own request), Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (who Jack, admittedly, liked), some Elvis and Sinatra, and a random mix of dance songs that had everyone except Jack trying to show off their talent, or lack of.

He got up, deciding to go ask Kate if she was ready to leave, when his mother approached him half-way there, an authentic smile on her face and tears in her eyes. She hugged him tightly then pulled back to kiss his cheek, and he thought for a moment that it was the most outpouring of affection that he could remember her ever showing him.

"I'm so proud of you, Jack. Your father would be so proud of you. I wish he could be here to see this."

"Thanks, Mom."

"She's a wonderful girl–woman. I know she'll make you happy,"

"She's made me happy for the past three years."

"I was wrong about her," His mother said quietly.

"I forgive you," he said simply, and she hugged him again.

"Now I expect pictures of my little granddaughter regularly," she said, wiping away the tears in her eyes. "And visits. I can't expect to watch her grow up through pictures alone."

He thought about asking his mother to dance with him, when he felt a hand tap his shoulder. It was Kate.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" She questioned, motioning for him to follow her onto the dance floor. He started to excuse himself, but found his mother had taken her leave, throwing a smile over her shoulder at him.

He let Kate lead him out onto the wooden floor. Some of the couples were still dancing, and it was a slow song for once, one he vaguely recognized, but didn't know the name or the words. He put one hand on her waist and held her hand with the other. She put her free arm around his neck and he watched her as they moved in time with the music.

Her cheeks were tinged pink and she was smiling, a real smile, no longer a rarity for her. He could tell she wanted to tell him something important, but she seemed to enjoy prolonging it, that thing about her that liked to see him agonized over some trivial thing. She rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed her cheek, and she suddenly grinned up at him.

"Your mom is dancing with my dad," she said, nodding her head to the side. He looked. She was right. They appeared to be whispering to each other, and laughing.

"Not good," Jack murmured as Kate put her head on his shoulder again. "Can't let them get any ideas. Wouldn't want you being my stepsister, too."

She giggled, to his surprise, and he wondered if she was drunk.

She leaned into his embrace. "Remember when Locke congratulated me earlier?"

"Mmhmm," he nodded, inhaling her scent, the fragrance of orange blossoms still lingering in her hair.

"He overheard me telling Claire and Sun something earlier."

"Important? A secret?"

"Yes."

"You keeping secrets from me?" He questioned, his voice teasing. She pulled back to look up at him. "Don't."

"So what is it?"

She leaned back against him, sighing. "Something's going to happen next year. Early, like...February."

"What?"

"Guess,"

"Can't, tell me."

"Jack, come on, guess." She pulled back to look up at him, pulling a puppy-dog face that made him grin again.

"Don't pull that, I'm not good at guessing right now."

"You usually are. I haven't had a drink all night, so what's your excuse?"

He raised an eyebrow. While Kate wasn't a drunk, she was no teetotaler either. Once Lily had moved to formula, Kate had raided their wine and liquor cabinet, setting bottles aside and letting herself get drunk on occasion. For her to remain dry the entire evening was a surprise to him.

"We're expecting something," she said softly, watching his response. "Expecting some_one_."

"Another one?" He questioned, a little shocked. "So soon?"

She pressed against him, her arms hugging his back. "Your fault. I'll ruin my figure, and my hips are going to get all wide." She wrinkled her nose, and he let his hands slid down to her hips.

"Lily was a C-section, and your hips are fine. I'm happy. I couldn't be happier, in fact. You told me you wanted twenty kids, remember?"

She stepped on his foot, on purpose or by accident, he wasn't sure, but she glared up at him playfully. "Yeah, right, twenty kids. That's easy for you to say, you don't have to suffer nine months of backaches and morning sickness and gaining weight and going through labor. You can just smile while I'm giving myself a hernia having your baby, then you sit there and tell me it's okay, but you're really just waiting until I feel better again so you can jump my bones again."

He grinned. "You can't give yourself a hernia, Kate."

"Nice denial, Jack."

"I like kids. Ours, especially." He put a hand on her stomach. "How long did you say?"

"January or February. I just took the test yesterday. I took two, just in case. I missed in May and again two weeks ago, so I figured, you know."

"So about seven months? Why are we always having our children in the middle of winter? Next time, let's try for spring or summer, okay?"

"Can we wait like two years before trying again? November isn't really in the winter, Jack."

"Cold enough. This is Boston, remember?"

"We're in Martha's Vineyard now."

"And it's still freezing in the winter. We'll go to LA for this one. I don't want to risk anything like with Lily."

"Accidents happen all the time, Jack."

"Like plane crashes?"

"That was a happy accident. I'd be in jail now if it wasn't for you."

"Are you happy?" He asked her seriously, pulling back to look at her.

She met his stare with one of her own. "Do you really need to ask?" She answered solemnly. They danced to the next song in silence, just enjoying each other's company, when Kate started laughing again.

"What's so funny?" Jack asked, looking at her curiously.

"Jack. Your mom." Kate put a hand over her mouth to contain her laughter. "She's dancing with Locke."


	24. Kate: Doppelganger

A/N: Sorry this update took so long! I just started my first year in college, so you can image the past ten or so days have been totally hectic! I finally squeezed some time in between all the homework this weekend to get some writing done, so I hope everyone is pleasantly surprised with this chapter. Two things: I have never with someone who was giving birth, so I really have no idea what the protocol is about that. I skipped that easily with Lily a couple chapters back, but it's harder now. I did the best I could thanks to Wikipedia, but if there's something I left out feel free to give me a little nudge and I'll fix/add it. There's also a nod to Sam Jackson (Snakes on a Plane, which I saw last Saturday, was hilarious) It actually was an accident how it kind of worked out, but it's amusing. And the first few paragraphs are Jack-centric, but it switches perspectives later on. Okay, enough from me. Enjoy :)

**KATE - Doppleganger**

"Let's see if we can find this little one," The nurse said, running the wand over Kate's stomach. "Four months along, right? Your first ultrasound?"

Jack turned to Kate with a smile and nodded. "Just found out about two months ago, she was nervous about coming. This is our second. We have a little girl, she's going on ten months old."

"What's her name?" The nurse glanced up at him before focusing on the green screen.

"Lily."

"Pretty name," The nurse replied, turning back to the screen. "Everything looks great so f–oh, wait a minute..."

Jack studied the woman's face for a moment, trying to read into her reaction. Both he and Kate had noticed her frown, and when he glanced at the fuzzy green monitor, he saw she was going back and forth over the same spot, as if looking for something else.

"What's wrong?" Kate inquired, looking concerned. Her hand instinctively found his and squeezed it, afraid.

"There's nothing wrong, I just need to check–"

There was a beat of silence, then the woman turned to give them both a smile.

"Congratulations," she said, beaming.

Jack looked at her, and then to Kate, who wore a similar look of confusion. They already knew she was pregnant so what–

"You're expecting twins."

His mouth dropped open. _Twins?_

"Twin boys, I think," she continued, grinning at them. From what I can tell, this one," she pointed to the baby on the left of the screen. "Is the bigger one. He's on the bottom, so he might be born first. However, babies like to move around and I'm sure they'll switch around before the birth."

Jack looked at Kate, who was staring at the screen with the strangest look on her face.

"Can you tell which is which? I mean, will you always be able to tell them apart while they're in here? Separate who's who?"

"We usually can."

Kate breathed a sigh of relief, then smiled up at the screen. The nurse punched a button on the ultrasound monitor to print out a set of pictures, handing them to Jack, then starting to shut off the machine. He handed some of them to Kate, who stared, amazed.

"I've got to run down the hall for some charts. I'll leave you two alone for a moment,"

After the nurse left the room, Jack turned his attentions back to Kate, who was lightly brushing the picture with a finger.

"Boys," he said, shaking his head. "Two boys. I can't believe it. I was hoping for another little girl."

"This is Tom," she said suddenly, touching the tiny form on the left side of the picture.

"And Sam." He added, pointing the twin on the right side, watching her carefully. She turned to him, a look of mixed surprise and gratitude. "For your dad,"

"Sam. His name is Samuel Joseph. For my dad."

"And Tom. Thomas Christian. For mine."

Jack felt himself forgive his father at that moment. He had accepted his own responsibility for father's death on the island, but still carried resentment in the back of his mind. Until now. It hadn't hit when Lily was born–it hit now. A little granddaughter, and now two grandsons he'd never meet. He somehow felt he owed it to Kate to name one of their twins after her own father first. Going to school functions and hearing Thomas _Christian Shephard_ would still hurt. It would be worse to use it as a first name. He forgave his father, but he hadn't forgotten.

"You okay?" Kate asked, touching his face with her hand.

"Fine. I'm fine." He gave her a wide grin. "I'm the happiest man in the world."

There was a knock on the door and the nurse re-entered with the charts.

---  
As Lily watched Kate's belly swell with growing jealousy, Jack found that he had to be careful. She was so used to being spoiled as their only child that when he started paying more attention to Kate and her growing stomach, Lily had little tantrums to get attention. He tried to explain to her about two new baby brothers, but she was too small to understand. When he had days off, he tried to spend as much time with his girls as possible, spoiling Kate _and_ Lily both. Their daughter's first birthday passed in November that year, and Jack threw a party. It was another excuse for them to spoil Lily, who was obviously oblivious to everything except the amount of attention everyone was paying to her. Jack was proud of his daughter, and he made sure everyone knew it.

By the end of the night, Sayid and a four-months pregnant Shannon knew that Lily's first words had been, "Nana," Banana, her then favourite food. Locke knew that she'd just taken her first steps in the garden outside the week before, letting go of Kate's hand and stumbling a few steps into Jack's waiting arms. Claire knew that Lily's favourite book was Thumbelina. Even little Aaron figured out that Lily's favourite color was yellow.

---  
It was the day before they were due to leave for Los Angeles. Jack's boss had agreed to his taking three months off to help Kate out with the new babies; however he'd told Jack that in order for him to get this time off, he'd have to work up until the day before they left.

So he was gone the evening of January 17 when her contractions began.

She was lounging in a chair in her bedroom, reading a magazine, with Lily playing on the floor nearby. Every so often, Kate would glance down at her daughter, watching her play. She was a smart girl, and learned easily.

The first one hit her like a shock. It wasn't very painful, but it startled her. It was at least three weeks too early, but the nurse had told her that a premature birth was probable, and usually common in twins and other multiple births. It might have been a false labor, the way Lily's would have been had it not been for the accident. Still, she wasn't taking any precautions. She tried to stand, but found that the rapid movements just behind her belly put her back on the couch again. She looked down at her daughter, who was playing with building blocks on the floor and put a hand on her stomach, frowning.

"Lily?"

Lily looked up at her curiously, pointing to Kate's stomach with a dimpled hand.

"Mama owie!"

"Lily, go get the phone, okay?"

"Mama owie?" Lily repeated, looking confused.

"No, baby, the phone. Telephone. Gotta call Daddy."

She understood _that_, and Kate watched her daughter toddle over to pick up the cordless phone from the hook on the bedside table, and then stand still, mashing the numbers on the keypad. She smiled a wide, dimpled smile at Kate, who tried to beckon her to bring the phone.

"Hi, Dad!" Lily spoke into the phone, holding the earpiece to her mouth. Kate winced slightly as one of the twins aimed a fierce kick at her insides. She hadn't had another contraction, but she knew now that it was definitely labor. She had to get to the hospital, but it hurt to get up, and Lily had a habit of not listening ("Wonder where she got that from?" Jack had said sarcastically on more than one occasion.)

Thankfully, Lily brought the phone over to her, looking a little let down.

"Uh-oh, Mama." Lily said, handing her the phone and looking at it reproachfully. For a moment, Kate was afraid that Lily's random dialing had placed a call to some foreign country. The voice on the other end, however, was just the standard operator telling her that the number dialed was not available, and to please hang up and try the call again. She hung up, waited a second, then dialed the number to St. Elizabeth, entering Jack's extension. She willed him to pick up, to not be in the middle of an 11-hour surgery. The phone rang five times, and she heard his voice mail pick up, which, for a moment, gave her false hope. _Hello, you've reached Dr. Jack Shephard. I'm not available at the moment, but please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible._ The machine beeped, and Kate left him a message, trying to keep the panic out of her voice, knowing it would lead him to worry.

"Hi, Jack, it's me. Um, I'm having contractions now. They're not too bad, but I'm going to call an ambulance to come get me. Lily's here–"

"Hi, Dad!"

"–and I'll send her down to your office, I know Melinda will look after her. I'll have someone page you once I get to the hospital so you can be there this time. You probably won't even get this until after it's all over anyway. Umm...okay. Love you. Lily loves you. The twins love you. See you soon."

She hung up, then re-dialed the hospital. They knew who she was, and promised to sent an ambulance right away. The receptionist also told her they'd let Jack know she was on her way.

She hung up the phone and rested her head back the pillow, feeling the babies moving furiously inside her. She felt another contraction, counting about ten minutes between them now. Lily watched her curiously.

"S'eepin now, Mama?"

"Just until we can go see Daddy," she told her, raising her head to look at the little girl. "Lily, coat and shoes, okay? Like we showed you."

She was already warmly dressed in a little pink sweater and jeans, but it was the middle of winter, freezing cold outside. Jack, always thinking ahead, had told her that she had to have Lily ready just in case anything like this happened again. They'd spent an entire afternoon showing her how to put on a coat and gloves. Zippers and shoestrings still eluded her, but Kate figured she'd be able to do that in between contractions. She watched Lily disappear down the hall, and moments later, she was back, half carrying, half dragging her coat, pulling her shoes by the strings. They'd stuffed the hat and gloves into the coat's arms to make it easier for the little girl, who now put the coat and shoes on the couch, staring expectantly at Kate with large eyes. Kate put Lily's arms in the jacket and zipped it up, and managed with the shoes, not bothering to tie them. She heard the siren of the ambulance as she pulled Lily's hat snugly over her ears. She heard the front door open, thankful that for once, she had left it unlocked.

Jack was pacing the floor in the small room when they arrived. He moved to take Lily from the arms of one of the nurses and then hovered anxiously around while they moved Kate onto the bed.

"Someone will be in to check on you in just a moment," The tall nurse said as she and the paramedics left the room. Kate breathed an inward sigh of relief that she'd gotten to the hospital safely. The ambulance ride had been less than perfect, and the winter weather didn't help.

Jack eased onto the edge of the bed, taking a firm hold of her hand.

"Got your message. I was about to drive home when they told me you were on the way." He watched her as he kissed the top of Lily's hair. The baby had gotten sleepy during the ride and was now fast asleep in Jack's arms.

"How are they?" He asked, nodding his head toward her stomach. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Busy,"

"Contractions?"

"Had another one in the ambulance."

"You know they'll probably have to do another C-section. They're only about ten days early, but–"

"I'm sick of C-sections. If we ever decide to have another baby, I want to do it the natural way."

"You know it isn't up to you. It's nature doing it's thing."

She winced, feeling the onset of another contraction. Jack knitted his brow in worry.

"Worse?"

"What do you think?" She felt one of the babies give her a hard kick. "Jesus Christ, where's the goddamn nurse?"

"Kate, don't curse in front of Lily,"

"She's sleeping and _you're_ not the one dealing with these."

He rose slowly, cradling Lily in one arm. Kate's hand tightened around his hand, trying to pull him back into his seat.

"Where are you–?"

"Just taking Lily up to my office. Melinda's waiting, I told her I'd drop Lily off."

Kate frowned, tugging on his hand.

"Don't go," she pleaded, feeling another contraction coming on, and wincing.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, Kate. Maybe not even that." She let go of his arm reluctantly and watched him grab Lily's baby bag. He started for the door, which swung open revealing two nurses, a doctor and the nurse from Jack's floor, Melinda.

She took the sleeping toddler and baby bag from Jack's arms and waved at Kate. "Good luck with the new little ones. I'll keep and eye on _this_ little one."

"Thanks, Mel," Jack said, sighing with relief, going back to sit next to Kate, who was now being asked questions by the doctor and one of the nurses.

"No problem. Good luck, you two."

Kate was trying not to ignore the questions being thrown at her, when the contractions has started, how frequent were they occurring, how much pain she was in.

"Lots." She managed, digging her nails sharply into Jack's palm, hearing him inhale abruptly at the pain. "Can we just get this over with?"

She heard the doctor conferring with the nurses briefly. Another contraction hit her, just as strongly as the previous one.

"I hate this," Kate said miserably, shutting her eyes and squeezing Jack's hand. "Tell them to hurry up!"

Like with Lily, she hadn't watched when they pulled each baby out. She kept her eyes shut or looked over at Jack, who was watching the doctors with an intent, serious look. She studied his profile, thin layer of stubble on his cheeks, wearing that silly blue shower cap type hat that covered his hair, dark hair that was smooth and surprisingly soft, and then, then, she watched Jack's eyes sparkle, his face full of pride. She heard a weak cry, then heard it get louder. Jack started to rise, and then stopped, looking down at her. She watched Jack move to hover over her stomach, and he leaned down slightly. Cutting the umbilical cord, she assumed. He stood back a little, glancing back at her.

"Is he okay?" She said, or thought she said. She waited a bit, and the room echoed with the cry of _two_ babies and Jack leaned forward again. She vaguely felt something else going on in her stomach, but not wanting to watch what was going on, she searched for the source of the cries. She usually always froze at the sight of blood. It had taken all of her courage not to pass out when she was helping Claire deliver Aaron.

She heard one of the doctors say something to Jack, and he breathed a sigh of relief, brushing the damp curls from her face. He leaned down to kiss her, and she read the proud look in his eyes.

"All over, Kate. You did good. They're getting everything closed up. I'm proud of you."

She wrinkled her nose at him, and he shook his head, grinning at her.

"They okay?" She mumbled. He nodded.

"I'm going to go check on them, okay?" He kissed her forehead and smiled at her. Weak as she felt at that moment, she managed to smile back.

Minutes passed, and she saw one of the nurses hand a bundle wrapped in a soft blue hospital blanket over to Jack. He took the bundle and came over to her, placing it in her arms so that Kate could get her first real look at her firstborn son. Jack watched for a moment before going over to watch the progress with the second twin.

The baby squinted vaguely at her with dark eyes. She thought he looked a little like Jack, but it was hard to tell from his slightly wrinkly face. He had very fine, soft, almost dark blonde hair, unlike Lily's almost black. He had been given a brief bath and had a sweet baby smell, and she touched his cheek gently with a finger. He reacted to her touch by making suckling noises with his mouth. She wondered if she should feed him, but felt slightly uncomfortable with all of these people in the room. They would take them to another room later, and she figured she could feed both of them then. The baby wrinkled his tiny face, but didn't cry.

"Tom..." She murmured, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Jack was at her side with the second baby. She knew that the doctor was asking her questions, but she wasn't paying any attention. The baby in Jack's arms was wrapped in a yellow blanket, perhaps to distinguish him from his twin. She looked at the first boy, then met Jack's eyes.

"Tom." She said firmly, cuddling the small body against her chest. "And that's Sam."

Jack knelt down so that she could get a better look at the second baby. She'd known when they had gone for the second ultrasound (one of the 3D ones, which had made watching the twins all the more real) that the twins were fraternal as opposed to identical, but she could easily make out the differences between the two boys.

Where Tom's hair was light brown in color, Sam's was dark, like Lily's. His face shape was much like hers, and she noted he had very light freckles. She heard a doctor say that they were going to be transferred to another room, but was still only vaguely listening, letting Jack answer all of the questions. Something about birth certificates. Something about an Apgar test. She didn't care, lost in the world of her little twin boys.

They were transferred to a recovery room about twenty minutes later. By this time, Melinda had come down with Lily, who was now snoring lightly on a small couch, covered in Jack's suit jacket. Kate had fed both of the twins, and they were both sleeping in separate hospital cots near her bed. Jack was lounging in a chair next to the bed, keeping an eye on Lily and the babies, the two of them talking in low voices.

"How big?" She inquired. Having paid little attention in the operating room, she now hammered Jack with questions about the twins she had earlier missed the answers to.

"Tom was five pounds, nine ounces. Sam was about two ounces bigger. Tom was...fifteen inches, Sam was sixteen. Tom had an eight on the Apgar after a minute, but they checked him after five and he was a nine. Sam was a nine after a minute. We've got healthy kids. No incubation, no monitors and machines. No health problems, as far as they can tell."

"What's all that mean?" Kate asked drowsily, holding a hand in front of her mouth to hide a yawn. "Agpar? Apgar?"

"Just measures the health of newborns," he told her simply, playing with the plastic hospital bracelet around her wrist.

"What time were they born?"

"Tom at 9:36, Sam at 9:39. I cut the umbilical cords. The doctor asked if you wanted to cut one, but I guess you were pretty drugged it. They didn't give you that much, Kate."

"Anesthesia makes me feel weird," she admitted.

"I almost forgot what you wanted for Sam's middle name." He said suddenly, with a grin. "And you know what the nurse suggested?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know?"

"She said I should do the Scandinavian thing. You know, where they take the father's name and add -son or -dottir to a kid's name to make the kid's last name?"

She gave him an almost disapproving look. "Please tell me that our son's name is _not_ Samuel Jackson Shephard. He'll be teased. Lily and Tom would probably tease him."

Jack laughed, shaking his head. "No, I remembered it was Joseph. We had a laugh about the whole 'Samuel Jackson' thing."

Kate yawned in spite of herself and Jack gave her a sympathetic look. "Get some sleep. You'll need it. We've got three to look after now."

"Lily's no problem," Kate said, feeling very drowsy. "She's got you wrapped around her finger. I can deal with the boys. You take care of your little princess."

She settled down into the hospital blanket and comforter, shutting her eyes as sleep started to wash over her.

Jack used to say there was nothing they hadn't dealt with. A plane crash, wild boars, strange monsters, car crashes, her criminal past, what had happened with Sawyer. They'd survived for months on an island. They'd survived their first year of parenthood. And they would survive this. _Twins_, she thought to herself. It would be hard, there was no denying. Jack would help. Lily would try to help, although she hadn't met her brothers yet, and she would probably initially be jealous. Jack's mother had said she would help, although that was when they'd been planning on going to LA to have the twins. Kate had grown to actually like Jack's mother, and although she didn't fully trust her, she was a devoted grandmother to Lily. There was also her own father. She could just imagine the look on his face when she told him they'd named one of their boys after him.

A light breathing to her right made her open her eyes and look. Jack was fast-asleep, his mouth half-open. Still, he looked peaceful like that, and she didn't bother waking him up. She turned over, snuggling into the blanket. They'd probably be wide-awake in the next three hours, dealing with screaming babies anyway.


	25. Jack: Calm Before the Storm

As I was imagining baby #4, I got word that pictures of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' baby girl had been published. So I went and BAM, there was Jaby #4 staring at me. Okay, not really, but little Suri had such wavy, dark hair and pretty blue eyes that I knew I had to steal the description for Jack and Kate's fourth and last little one. (BTW, here's the picture if you haven't seen it yet: http/img415.imageshack.us/img415/3906/060906mapr01hq7.jpg)

**JACK**

"Come on, Kate. One more push...yes, as hard as you need to. My _hand_, Kate, don't give yourself an aneurism, Jesus."

She threw him a frustrated and agonized look before giving a final grunt and collapsing back against the pillow, gasping.

"Sorry," he murmured sheepishly, then grinned at her, checking behind him as the doctors removed the wet and squirming infant, cleaning away the blood and placenta. For a moment, as Jack leaned down by her side, they watched the doctors' movements with their baby. He realized suddenly that the baby wasn't breathing. The room was hushed, and would have been almost eerily silent except for Kate's ragged breathing and the beeping of the monitors. In those first moments, Kate's hand squeezed hard, but all of his energy was focused on the tiny baby that the doctors were working to frantically encourage to breath. Finally, they both let out a collective sigh of relief when the child let out a small whimper, which, seconds later, turned into a full-fledged shriek.

"A boy," a nurse said to them, displaying the still-screaming infant on Kate's chest, another nurse coming to hand Jack a pair of scissors. He leaned forward, but Kate held out a hand to stop him.

"No, let me. You've done it twice already. I couldn't with Lily. Let me..."

He gave up the scissors and watched Kate cut the baby's umbilical cord. The nurse smiled at them before taking the baby off for weighing and a bath.

Jack wiped the sweat from her forehead and then kissed her softly. She turned her forehead to meet his, closing her eyes with a look of bliss on her face, before looking up at him again apologetically.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"I know you wanted another girl."

He shrugged it off. "My fault. The men in my dad's side of the family tend to have low X-chromosome counts."

"Yeah, but I know you would have preferred another little girl."

"It doesn't matter, he's healthy. Lily's my girl. I think she'd be jealous of a sister."

She leaned her head against his chest, listening to the doctors fussing over their son.

"Just so you know in advance," she said softly, teasing. "I'm done with having your children."

He opened his mouth to reply, but the nurse brought over their tiny bundle and placed him in Kate's waiting arms. She snuggled him and inhaled his fresh baby scent.

"Nine pounds, six ounces." The nurse said with a smile. "You're one brave lady."

Kate glanced up at Jack and the two of them shared a knowing smile. "You have no idea."

Noah Gabriel Alexander Shephard was the name they decided. They had both unanimously agreed on the baby's first name long ago (along with Emily Grace, had he been a girl) but had struggled to decide on a middle name. Kate liked Gabriel, and Jack opted for Alexander. When it became clear that neither would give way to the other, they decided to let him have two. There was a brief discussion about which should be first, but Kate thought it would be cute for them to be in reverse alphabetical order. No use telling her that flipping the whole thing around would have been nicely in order, but he conceded.

Noah was their first real full-term. He'd been a day over his due date, born March 28, 2012. Kate had expressed some grief that all of their children had been born in cold weather. It amused them both, though, that all of the birthdays were two months apart. His and hers: she was born in June, he, two months later, in August. Lily in November, the twins in January, and now Noah in March. Still, after four years of the twins, Noah, who was already a placid, quiet baby, brought them some temporary peace.

He was born with a full head of wavy dark hair, chubby baby cheeks, and dark, stormy eyes that turned brown with time. Their only brown-eyed child. When they brought him home three days later, Lily and the twins crowded around Kate, gazing at their new brother in her arms.

"He's really tiny, Dad." Lily said, hanging from Jack's arm. He lifted her up for a better view. "Like a little doll."

"Can't see, Daddy," Tom said with a whimper, jumping up trying to get a better look. Sam added his own protest, and soon both of them were jumping up and down. Lily ignored them, but Jack found he couldn't.

"Boys!" There was an unrestrained harshness to his voice. They both stopped immediately, looking shamefaced. Kate threw him a scathing look, and bent down to their level to let them look at their new brother.

"Say hello to Noah," she told them.

"He doesn't got freckles like me!" Sam said, wrinkling his nose.

"He might not get them until later, baby."

"He's not a baby anymore, Momma." Lily put in. "They're four. And I'm five, but I'm much bigger. I'm a big girl."

"You are," Jack told her, tickling her stomach so that she giggled. "You're my big girl."

He missed the childish looks of jealousy and envy on his two elder sons' faces. The baby in Kate's arms slept on, happy, content. Healthy.

"JACK!" Her screams jolted him out of his nap. He groaned and checked his watch, running a hand over his face. It was still an hour before he had to go back in for a meeting and he'd hoped to catch a nap beforehand. Obviously, that was not to be. He sat up, looking around, wondering if her scream had been just a dream.

"JACK!" There it was again. He was up immediately, searching for the location of her voice when she called for him again. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him out their bedroom door and down the end of the hall to Noah's room.

Kate was standing next to the crib, one hand over her mouth, looking terrified. The other was touching something–Noah?–in the crib. He moved forward, a questioning look on his face.

"Kate, what–?"

She raised her arm to show him what she was holding. Noah's yellow blanket. The one with the little row of ducklings that Jack had bought only the week before and that their six-week old son was now attached to. She held it up for him to see and what he saw made his knees feel weak.

Blood.

The soft fabric was stained with red. It wasn't a big, bloody mess, but it was blood.

"What happened?" He asked, peering into the crib, expecting to see more blood, and a dead child.

On the contrary, Noah was awake and now smiling at them happily, gurgling up at his parents, ignoring their looks of concern. Jack's eyes caught a stain of red on the part of Noah's white onesie that covered his stomach. With care and his mind racing, Jack unbuttoned the outfit and pulled it back. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"This is normal," He said, putting his free hand on Kate's arm. "Sometimes, babies bleed from the navel. It should go away in a little while. Just an after-effect from the umbilical cord. Nothing too serious."

He went down to the hall to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet they always kept stocked in case of emergencies and got a bottle of alcohol, and a strip of gauze. When he returned, Kate looked visibly alarmed.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, hovering over the baby protectively.

"I'm just cleaning it. I've got to put some pressure on it to stop the bleeding." She stepped away, but hovered awkwardly over him as he dabbed the gauze with alcohol and pressed gently on the baby's belly. Noah squealed in protest at the cold (and probably smelly) substance. Kate took one of the baby's hands in her own, wiping away his dark hair from his forehead with the other. Jack tried to be quick about it, increasing the pressure and holding it there for about ten minutes. When he removed the cloth, now stained with red from the blood, it appeared like the meager flow coming from Noah's belly button had now stopped. He took the alcohol back to the bathroom and threw the gauze away, coming back to stand next to Kate.

"He'll be alright now." He told her, putting an arm around her and kissing her forehead. She wasn't convinced.

Noah bled for three days. In the end, Jack finally agreed that this was not normal and they took him to the hospital after they dropped Lily and the twins off at preschool.

He ran tests, drew blood, consulted charts, took samples from Jack and Kate each, _hmm_-ed and told them to come back the next morning for an official diagnosis.

Those twenty-four hours were the longest either of them had ever lived through. Noah, oblivious to what was going on, smiled and kicked out his legs happily. As a doctor, thousands of possible scenarios ran through Jack's mind, each more ridiculous than the last. Kate spent nearly the whole day with Noah, cuddling him, holding him, feeding him, singing to him. Jack thought it was strangely morbid, with her acting like he was going to die.

"He might," Kate said grimly when he mentioned it. He was terrified.

Hemophilia.

The doctor put it bluntly, but sympathetically. Kate sat stonily in the chair next to him, clutching Noah tightly to her. Jack shut his eyes. This wasn't happening.

They listened vaguely to the doctor's explanation: how serious Noah's condition was, how his blood lacked a clotting factor, how any bump or bruise could cause uncontrollable bleeding and swelling. How Kate had passed the defective gene on to him at conception. How they should bring in Lily for a test, just to see if she'd be a carrier too, when she had children.

Kate cried in his arms that night, more tears than he'd ever known she'd had. The doctor had mentioned that, while not curable, there were effective (but expensive) treatments. Jack assured him that money was not an option when it came to his children's health.

It was a difficult year for them. For the parents of any normal baby, teething is a trying time. For Noah, it was much more painful. By the time he was four months old, his teeth began to come through. His gums were much more swollen than any of the elder three. He cried for hours with the two of them trying to soothe him, sing to him, make him feel better. It broke Jack's heart to watch the tears running down Noah's face. It scared Lily and the twins, who weren't consciously used to a house filled with screaming babies. It terrified Jack and Kate.

As the year went on, their concern increased. At six months, Noah began to crawl, and bruises of all sizes and colors formed on his arms and legs. When he started walking at ten months, and in the process, struggled to stand, and fell, and the swelling began. They watched him constantly, and more than once Jack yelled at the twins to stop being so boisterous around their brother, not to hurt him. He was thankful that Lily had enough sense to sit still with the growing toddler, and keep an eye on Noah when Jack and Kate couldn't. He was proud of her, for all of her going-on-six years.

Despite his condition, Noah grew quickly. He had a beautiful smile, Jack discovered, and he was very affectionate. The twins as babies, and even, admittedly, Lily, had wet kisses that left him wiping off his face discreetly. A kiss from Noah was different: soft, not at all slobbery, a real baby kiss. His first word, in fact, was "Kish." He was such a lovable baby. Lily was a daddy's girl, and the twins were momma's boys, but Noah split their affections. He was so small, so sweet. Jack would stand over his crib and watch him sleeping, touching the fine dark hair, worry etched in his eyes over the son that would never be, could never be normal.

---  
A/N: Just a prequel to the upcoming events in the next two chapters, which are already pretty much finished. I want to finish this by September 17 for the year anniversary, so after this chapter, there are the two chapters coming up and an epilogue. These next chapters are pretty grim for the Shephard family, so don't hate me in advance for this one and the next one and the first part of the third one. Once I'm done with this, I'll upload the sequel, and FINALLY take a rest. Then I'd like to get to work on my next series, which is an on-island fic. I'll miss this one muchly!


	26. Kate: Crash

A/N: Next chapter! Just two more left after this one! Okay, please don't hate me for this chapter. Some bad stuff happens in this one and the first half of the next chapter. I mean, last chapter was originally supposed to be the last one before the epilogue, but then I got a bit of an inspiration and these two chapters materialized. They work much better now, so I'm glad they're in here, as depressing as they might be. So this story is almost over! Enjoy (actually don't, because this is kind of sad) but please R&R!

**KATE**

"Why do you always treat them so different?"

That was the way it always started with them. When their children were smaller, before Noah was born, they rarely fought, only squabbles about trivial things. Now that the twins were older, and they had Noah to worry about, Jack seemed...different. He had told her that Noah's condition wouldn't change anything, but he'd lied. It had changed everything.

The summer of 2014, after her thirty-fifth birthday (and before Jack's forty-first), they planned a on vacation to the summer house in Martha's Vineyard. There, they were far from the bustle of city life, and Jack was free from the stress of paperwork and surgery. It was supposed to be their family time.

The night before their departure, after she had bathed and put the kids to bed, she put on her pajamas and crawled into bed, alone. She'd done this for the past two weeks, curled up and fallen asleep in a Jack-less bed. It would be better when they left in the morning. Just the two of them–of course, later in the evening, when the kids were sleeping. He promised it would be better. His boss always gave him extra hours just before he took leave.

She heard the bedroom door creak open slowly and the light from the hallway flooded the room for a moment before he turned off the switch. He stumbled into the dark bedroom and shut the door, making his way to his side of the bed and turning on the lamp. She shifted, turning away from him. She felt entitled to be a little upset at his constant early morning to late evening hours. She felt the mattress sag slightly under his weight as he sat down on the edge of the bed. A minute passed.

"I have to work again this week. I can come up later, but my boss said it isn't a good time for me to be off now."

This time, she sat up completely, turning to face him angrily. All of the pent-up rage of him working, never being home with her, with their children.

"You're late." She said flatly. "You're very late. It's three in the morning."

He said nothing. She wouldn't keep the fact that she was angry at him out of her voice.

"Jack, this is ridiculous. I can't take them by myself. What am I supposed to do with four active children? When they're home, it's different, they can play in the house and I can keep an eye on Noah. What if Lily wants to go to the beach? I have to keep an eye on all four of them. I can't just do that alone! They're not old enough to look after themselves, and what if one of them swims too far out? What if Noah falls and hurts himself? What if I–"

"Kate, relax, okay? Stay home for a week. Or invite Rachel up with Anna and Luke. The kids can play together."

"Jack, in case you've just forgotten, Marc and Rachel's kids are teenagers. Lily's not even eight yet."

"So, they can help you with the kids."

"You're not making this any easier for me, I just want you to know that."

"It's not that bad–"

"'Not that bad?' _You_ aren't with them all the time. _You_ don't have to constantly worry about them like I do. Even when Lily and the twins are at school, I sit at home with Noah and watch him constantly. He's only two, he doesn't understand not to run into things or to be careful. I have to be with him every second, make sure he doesn't hurt himself."

He lowered his head. "I'm sorry."

She sighed and curled up underneath the blankets of the bed. "Okay."

She heard him rummaging in his dresser and he left the room for a while. When he came back, he turned off the light and crawled into bed next to her, and they lay there in silence for a few moments. She was on the verge of sleep when she felt his breath on her bare shoulder and seconds later, felt his lips make contact. She shivered despite the summer heat and bit her lip to stifle a moan that was trying to force itself from her throat. No. She would _not_ give in to him.

"Stop," she murmured, pulling away from him and immersing herself under the blankets. He seemed to take this as an invitation, and that only made him more forceful.

"Jack! Stop!" She gave his shoulder a rough push and he rolled off of her and frowned, shaking his head. The silence overpowered them for a while, until he spoke again.

"Take the boys with you. I can keep an eye on Lily, she likes coming to work with me."

That did it.

"Why won't you take the twins? You're always saying how they should get used to being at the hospital, since you seem to have their lives planned out for them."

"I don't–"

"You don't spend enough time with them. Hell, you don't spend enough time with me. I could even look over that if you spent all your time playing with Noah and the twins. Sure, you love Lily, she's your little girl, you'll always love her most. But you never give our boys the time of day, and you're only really worried about Noah when he gets sick."

"I'm not–"

"They want you to love them, Jack! They want you to hug them and play with them and teach them things other than the anatomy of the human body. They want you to appreciate the things they do for you. They want you to teach them how to play football, not how to perform open heart surgery. They want you to be their father, not their professor. Why is it that when Lily draws you pictures, you hang them all over your office, but you won't give a second look at anything the twins do for you? Did you know that Sam hasn't been doing well in class? His teacher says he's moody and bossy, and won't do his work. Tom has nightmares and he won't stop sucking his thumb. Noah has trouble sleeping at night. But you just keep on smiling at Lily. It's like the rest of us don't even exist."

"I'm trying," He said, a little too quickly. She shook her head, leaning over to turn on the light on her side of the bed, staring at him.

"This is a mistake, Jack. It's not working out."

"What in the hell are you–"

"_This_, Jack." She waved her arms around the room. "This. Everything. This life, this house, this ring. You. Me. Us."

"The kids?" He added, looking serious. She stood and paced the room, not answering him for a moment, then: "I love them. I don't regret them. It's just you, when you're this way. I don't know anymore."

A beat.

"You can't take them."

"What?"

"I won't let you take them away from me." He crawled out of bed and stumbled toward her, inches from her face. "They won't let you have them. I have a job. This is my house. I won't let you take them, Kate." He raised his voice noticeably louder and continued. "If you leave, you'll never see them again."

"You're so selfish!" she screamed suddenly, pushing at him. He looked at her, wide-eyed and bewildered, and stumbled back a step. She suddenly realized what was the matter with him.

"You're drunk, aren't you? What's wrong with you! When was the last time you had a full nights sleep? We haven't gone to bed at the same time in almost _two weeks_, Jack. Two weeks! I hear you come in at four in the morning, but I don't wake up because I know you're working extra so we could have this vacation. I thought you might be seeing someone else, but I know you're not like that. But _drinking_! You said you weren't going to drink anymore, Jack. How long have you been doing this? How long have you been driving like this?"

He stared at her blankly. "How did you–"

"Marc told me. And then Rachel told me. And then Melinda called last night. Why?"

He looked away from her, his face red, and started to leave the room. She grabbed his jacket and pulled him back.

"Answer me!"

"Let go of me," His voice was so dangerously calm that she released her hands from his suit, but remained in her defiant position.

"You told me what your father did to you. You used to cry about it. And now you're turning into the same thing your father was."

"Don't you _ever_..." He was yelling now. "Don't ever compare me to _him_." He raised his hand and she flinched and took a step back. It was her own movements, and not his, that hit her like a ton of bricks. She was afraid of him. This was real fear. The fear of another human being. All her life, Kate had never been truly afraid of anyone. She was brave, a fighter. Sometimes Wayne had hit her in a fit of drunkenness and she would hit him back with her child's fists. When she was older, old enough to protect herself, the beatings stopped. Still, she'd spent most of her life running that she'd never encountered real fear. She'd kill a man before she'd let him put his hands on her.

And yet...She didn't know if it was the look in his eyes that scared her, or the way his hand, with one swift movement, could connect with her face before she could stop him. The knowledge that if he hit her, she would cower with fear, to be afraid of him. His hand was still raised, and she braced herself for the stinging slap. Jack was no longer looking at her, but just past her, at the open door. She turned to follow his gaze and caught sight of the two pajama-clad figures as they moved into the room and tried to hide behind the couch. She took a step toward them, peering behind the piece of furniture at the two small figures who stared up at her.

"Boys?"

Tom and Sam emerged slowly from behind the couch, hands clasped and cuddling close together. Tom's dark brown eyes looked at her sadly, and she almost flinched–he looked so much like Jack. Her eyes flickered to Sam's face, studying hers curiously.

"Mommy?" It was Sam who spoke first, watching the two of them while his twin gazed with wide eyes. Tom may have been older, and may have looked more like Jack, but Sam was clearly the leader of the two. He look a step forward, still holding on to his brother.

"Mommy? Are you and Daddy getting a divorce?"

His question must have jolted Jack from his dazed state, and she heard him inhale sharply. Kate bent down to their level, taking each boy's hand in one of her own.

"No, Sam. Baby, no, we're–where did you hear that?"

Tom spoke up, removing his thumb from his mouth. "At school. Jacob in our class, his mommy and daddy got a divorce. He said his mommy told him she didn't love his daddy no more and Jacob said they fighted all the time. Like you and Daddy."

That sent a jolt of shock through her body. _Divorce_? She couldn't imagine...were their fights really that serious and that frequent? Did she still love Jack? She knew enough about the laws of family court to know that if they did get a divorce, Jack would most likely get primary custody. She may have been their mother, but he was the one with the well-paying job and he could provide for them. She hadn't had a job in years–since before she'd gone on the run. She would get to see them maybe once every month, maybe on birthdays and holidays. She would have to watch them grow up from pictures–if he would even send them.

Jack brushed past all three of them without a word, and she heard him storm down the stairs. She silently hoped he wouldn't leave the house in his condition, and almost breathed a sigh of relief when she heard him slamming around the liquor cabinet in the kitchen.

Kate gathered the two boys closer to her, touching the top of Sam's soft, coal black hair and Tom's curly light brown hair and hugged them tightly. After a moment, she took them back into their bedroom and curled up in the large bed with them. They were supposed to be getting twin beds soon, though they hated being split up. Jack thought it was time for them to let go.

She didn't hear Jack come up the stairs that night. His footsteps echoed through the upstairs hallway early the following morning, and she heard him go into their bedroom and take a shower. When he came out of the room, she heard him going down the hall and opening the door to Lily's room. She kept her eyes shut when she heard him open the door to the twins' bedroom, pretending to be asleep. He said nothing and shut the door.

She waited up for him until eleven that night, and when he didn't return home, she took the children to their van for the long ride up to Martha's Vineyard. Noah was still sleeping when she put him in his car seat, while Lily and the twins helped her put their luggage in the car. When all four of them were safely buckled in, she climbed into the front seat and pulled out the driveway.

The children were surprisingly quiet for the first few minutes of the ride, but it wasn't long until the boys started arguing with Lily. Noah woke up cranky, and his wailing added to the mayhem in the backseat. She wasn't angry at her children, but all of the noise was starting to eat at her already fragile nerves. She didn't mean to snap at them, but her argument with Jack the night before was still much too fresh in her mind.

"Don't pinch me!"

"Stop, Sam!"

"Mommy!"

"Lily, give me my toy back!"

"Noah, stop kicking the seat!"

"Mommy, want out!"

"Don't throw your cookies, Noah!"

"Lily, give it back!"

"Well quite being so stupid!"

"Don't tease us!"

"MOMMY!"

"Be quiet!" Kate yelled, slamming on the brakes and turning in her seat. Four stunned, scared sets of eye stared back at her. She cursed under her breath. She had never once yelled at them like that. Behind them, a car honked its horn and she faced front again, hands gripping the steering wheel even as her knuckles began to turn white. She drove to the next exit, angry at herself for yelling at them, but angrier at Jack for their harsh words. She headed back onto the highway in the opposite direction. Lily reached up to touch her arm.

"Where are we going, Mom?"

"Home," was all Kate said in reply. She felt the little girl's hand slide off of her arm and for the rest of the ride, the four in the backseat made no noise, not even a sound from Noah.

She started to drive back to their home, but let herself pass the exit, going two further, the way to the hospital. She hated going this way in the dark, but it was quicker than going through the heavy city traffic, even this late at night.

It was quieter on this more rural road, as they passed the small suburban housing units. Ahead of them, Kate could see the bright lights of the eleven-story hospital looming ahead of her. She sighed. She and Jack were adults. They had been through hell on the island, and endured more heartache than most couples. There had been the issue of Lily's birth, their difficult first year with twins, Noah's condition. She wondered where it had gone wrong with them, how they had gotten so bad.

As she cruised along the river, now driving away from the hospital, for a moment, she pondered running the car into the water. She wondered how Jack would take that. The part of her that was still criminal had been long subdued, but it brought back thoughts of murder. She shook her head. She would never think of killing her children, not even to take it out on Jack. He deserved plenty, but not that. Never that.

"Mom?" Lily's voice broke into her thoughts. She hadn't noticed that she had stopped in the middle of the road until she heard Lily's screams. She realized that she didn't know where she was. Noah was crying in the back, and the twins kept repeating, "Mommy, Mommy!" over and over again. There was a blinding light and she barely registered the sound of the truck honking.

_Oh God_, she thought with a jolt of terror. _Oh my God._


	27. Jack: You Don’t Have to Let Go

A/N: Last chapter! There was going to be an epilogue, but I felt I tied things up pretty good here. I'm so sad to see this story end, but I'm feeling so creative now, I've been writing all these oneshots, so you can look forward to those. Please review, and tell me how you liked the story, it means so much to me to hear from you guys. You've been such a great audience, and 200+ reviews and over 25 chapters later, I really feel proud of this story. Thank you for reading! Oh, and keep an eye out for the one or two-shot sequel (I haven't decided if I want to split it up yet) to "Fate," which should be coming up pretty soon. I want to thank all of my faithful readers again, and I hope you enjoy the final chapter to "Fate."

**JACK**

He sat in his office, hand over his mouth in thought. But Jack wasn't thinking, at least, not philosophically. He was thinking about Kate, and how horrible he had been to her the previous evening. It was such a blur to him. He knew he'd said things that he now knew he regretted. It had been a long day, and he was off in an hour. He'd cleared things up with his boss already, and explained how things were at home. After he left, he was going to go home, pack, and drive up to join Kate and the kids. He understood now, why his mother had spent many nights upset about "ruined plans." He had only been nine when his father disappeared for three months, missing Jack's tenth birthday.

Though he kept liquor bottles in his office, he hadn't touched them that day. Kate's words, and his own actions had seriously shaken him up, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. He kept himself running through his long shift by running to the coffee bar. The empty cups littered his desk, and on one occasion, spilled their contents onto some of his papers. All he really wanted was to walk out of his office and drive up to be with his family. To apologize to Kate, and maybe take her suggestions to heart. He wanted to teach the twins football, read to Noah, go for a swim with Lily. Maybe sit down and just talk to Kate. Sam's question about them getting a divorce–it wasn't that bad, he tried to reassure himself. They'd been through much worse and come out better from it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a hurried knock on his office door, followed by Melinda poking her head in.

"Sorry to disturb you, Jack. Car accident, a couple kids involved. They need you in the OR right away."

He sighed and stood up, grabbing his gear and following Melinda at a jog.

"Were they drinking?" He asked as he caught up with her.

She turned to look at him. "Sorry?"

"The kids. It's late, the summer. Were they drinking?"

"No, not teenagers. Kids–uh, like–small kids, elementary school-age. I guess the mother wasn't paying attention to the road. Anyway, they just sent me to get you, I don't know much else."

For a second, he thought about Kate and their children, but he pushed that out of his mind. They were probably already at Martha's Vineyard by now. Still, he wondered what a mother was doing driving around the busy city at night with her children at midnight.

The OR was full of people, much more chaotic than usual. One of the nurses gave him the details about his patient: a boy, about two or three. Involved in an automobile accident, severe bleeding. Something was wrong, a severed artery. The surgery had begun hours before, but the surgeon felt he didn't have the experience needed for the gravity of the situation. Jack half-listened, and quickly got to work. From someone else, he heard that the boy's mother was in a room with her other children, but she wasn't saying anything. They couldn't give the boy plasma because she wouldn't speak. The police were trying to find the licence and registration to find out who the owner of the car was.

The boy was laying on his stomach on the operating table and one of the younger surgeons was still in place, trying to do something–anything. Jack slowly eased the young man out of the way, nodding to let him know everything was alright.

Half an hour in, he realized his hands were shaking, and he found he couldn't go on. Something was definitely wrong, and it was becoming impossible to find the source of the bleeding.

"Dr Shephard?"

He looked up, feeling defeated. He hated when his patients were children; it made it worse when they died.

"I'm trying," he muttered, looking the toddler over. "He's lost too much blood,"

"We don't know his blood type. His mother won't talk."

Jack picked up the boy's limp wrist, checking for a pulse of any kind, and suddenly felt a dead cold settle over his body and his heart began beat wildly.

Noah.

There was that birthmark on his wrist. There was no mistaking it. Kate had joked once that it looked sort of like a pork chop. Jack, still shaking with the sudden realization, moved some of the boy's dark hair from his ear. Four months ago, he had cut his ear and it had bled for a full day. The scar was still apparent two weeks ago, and as he ignored the confused looks of the people around him, there it was again, as plain as day.

"He's O-positive." He muttered, feeling devastated, and now, a fear over what had happened with Kate and Lily and the twins.

"Doctor Shephard?"

Jack cleared his throat. "He's O-positive. And I'm O-negative."

"We have limited–"

"Did you hear me? I'm O-neg. I've given him blood before, this time is no different."

"You know him?" There was now a dead silence in the room, broken only by the beeping of the machines.

"He's my–he's my son."

He couldn't stand the sudden looks of concern and sympathy on the faces of the nurses and other doctors. He felt the leader in him come out again.

"Alright, we can control this." He pointed to one of the nurses. "I want you to get me an empty IV. Some needles to draw blood, and grab all of the O-neg plasma you have, we'll use it for backup." He nodded to the young surgeon from whom he had taken over from. "You, come here. I'll walk you through this." To another nurse, "Check the supplies and see if we have any ReFacto. Okay, this is what we're going to do."

---  
The recovery room was still when he entered. He saw Kate first, sitting on a small couch between two beds, holding Sam's hand and brushing his hair. He was hooked up to a machine. Tom, in the other bed, wore a cast and sling. Lily was leaning against Kate, staring blankly at the wall. She looked up when he moved into the room and leapt up, racing into his arms, sobbing.

Kate looked up as well, but turned away when she saw him. He picked Lily up in his arms, still so worried that she, at seven going on eight, was so thin. Even her light weight, though, the weakness of his arm and the shock of her weight caused him to nearly drop her. He adjusted to her weight, and she buried her face into his neck and he stroked her hair, feeling tears seep into his own eyes. He carried her over to where Kate sat and sat next to her.

"They said you won't speak," he said quietly, watching Tom's chest rise and fall erratically. "What happened?"

She didn't say anything, but continued to run her fingers through Sam's dark hair, almost robotically. In his arms, Lily turned, so she was sitting in his lap. Jack let silence hover for as long as he could stand it. His nerves were at their final edge, and he felt like he could go over at any second.

"Kate, talk to me."

She finally turned to look at him, and her face was stained red from tears. "We were coming here. We were coming here and I was going to–I don't know. I wanted to tell you that we–this–"

"I don't want us to be over. I want to try and fix this."

"That's your problem, Jack," she said, her voice emotionless, but her eyes betraying her feelings. "You always want to fix things."

"It's different this time. Kate, please, what happened?"

She turned away from him, and anger welled up in the pit of his stomach. He opened his mouth, not even sure what he wanted to say to get to her listen, but she spoke instead.

"I told you we were coming back. I stopped, maybe in the middle of the road, I don't remember. We got hit by a semi." She tapped her hairline, and he could make out the beginnings of a scar. "My only injury. Lily hasn't spoken, they think she might have brain damage or a slight concussion. She won't let them look at her, but maybe she's just in shock. Tom has a broken arm and a cracked rib and Sam's lung collapsed. He's okay, but he's in a lot of pain. And Noah–Noah..." She paused, her green eyes suddenly filled with concern and terror. "Where is he, Jack? Where's my baby?"

A wave of pain overwhelmed him from his bandaged arm, and he couldn't escape the look in her eyes. He exhaled slowly, as if preparing her for the worst. "He's still in critical condition, it's hard to tell. You wouldn't talk, they didn't know about him. He lost a lot of blood. It's touch and go. He could survive, he could–" Jack found he wasn't able to continue.

She glanced at the gauze over his arm. "What did you do?"

Jack pulled back and shook his head. "Nothing,"

"If we're going to fix this, we need to start being truthful with each other. _What did you do_?"

"He needed the blood. I'd done it before, and I figured there was less risk if it was mine and not someone else's."

He couldn't figure out the look in her eyes. Disappointment, relief, anger, despair, appreciation. She sighed. "Did they let you do it? It wasn't like with Boone–"

The memory stung, and they were silent for a moment, as if remembering. Jack felt suddenly very uncomfortable and he found himself suddenly wanting to veer off-topic.

"I quit," he said after a moment.

"What?" She frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

"My job here at the hospital. I told my boss today. This is the same thing that happened in my first marriage. I'm a workaholic. You told me yourself, I need to spend more time with you, with the kids. So I quit. Effective after my shift ends tomorrow night. I know why this happened. I'm being punished for working and never spending enough time with my family."

"Jack, how are we going to live? I know you make a lot, but it's going to run out, and we have to worry about four years of college for our kids, and maybe graduate schools, and then–"

He put a hand up to interrupt her. "When my father died, he left hundreds of thousands in his bank account, and it all went to me. My father was chief of surgery. I've been chief of surgery for two years. We've already got more than enough to send twenty kids to college, let alone four."

She looked away, and he knew she was thinking about Noah. He boldly put a hand out to touch her shoulder. "He'll be alright, Kate. I promise."

"Mommy?"

The sound of Tom's weak voice made them both jump a little. The little boy was watching them, his eyes wide open. "Mommy, what happened?"

"Hi, buddy." Jack said slowly. "Feeling better?"

Tom gave him a terrified look, his eyes flashing to Kate, then resting on his brother. His eyes widened as he looked over at his twin.

"Sam?" He reached over for his brother with his unhurt arm, wincing at the pain. Jack saw tears in the little boy's eyes, and once more, it hit him how close he had come so close to losing this. He started to move Lily off of his lap so she was sitting between himself and Kate. She looked up at him, confused, hurt. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. It was Kate who stepped in to say what he couldn't: "Lily, your brother needs him more."

Lily sniffled and slid off of Jack's lap, freeing the space for him to carefully lift Tom out of his bed and just hold him. The little boy stiffened, almost struggled in Jack's hold, before erupting in tears and repeatedly calling for his twin. It took all of Jack's strength not to cry as well. Several minutes had passed before he noticed Kate's hand in his and saw the tears in her eyes too. He knew then that it was alright, and he rested his chin against Tom's curly hair, and between the three of them, and later, Lily, cried tears until the release of sleep fell collectively upon them.

---  
Kate, Lily and Tom were released the next morning. Sam, they kept another two days before allowing him to go home. It was Noah now that their attentions were focused on. For the first few days, they kept their three older children with them. Jack, especially, didn't want any of them out of his sight as he and Kate kept a vigil by Noah's bed. He hated to see his small son hooked up to monitors and being pumped with plasma. Every so often, the little boy would whimper or cry out, and each time it was a pierce to his heart. Jack had never been a very religious man, but he found himself praying with all of his strength for his son to recover.

Lily had gotten over her initial shock and had begun speaking again. Sam said it hurt to breath, but with each passing day, he said it hurt less. Tom had trouble walking from the pain where his rib had cracked, and his arm still hung in a sling, but he was improving. Kate had no internal or external injuries, but she continued to blame herself. She had told him she had thought about driving the car into the river, but she had never meant for anything to happen to them, not really. He didn't blame her at all; he knew it was his fault for being a horrible husband and father. He promised himself that if he could pull through this, he would do better, be better, try harder.

A week later, Noah began improving. He opened his eyes and ate a little solid food before drifting back to sleep. Ten days after the accident, he began speaking, saying where he still hurt. When they were finally able to take him home, he was still pale and very weak. Lily and the twins were cautious around him; he had been through accidents before, but never this serious. There was no jealousy over the attention paid to him. Their trip to the Vineyard was long forgotten, but Jack didn't mind. Aside from watching and helping Noah on his slow road to recovery, he spent the summer teaching the twins how to play football. Kate spent time with Lily, teaching her to cook and taking her on mother-daughter trips, so they could bond while Jack stayed with Noah and the twins. Things he had never noticed before came apparent. He never knew that Tom hated chocolate or that Sam's favourite food was peas. He had never taken the time to notice things about his boys that he had always know about Lily. How Sam was afraid of the dark or the scar on Tom's knee was from falling out of a tree at school. He took them to the Y and they took swimming classes together.

He was no longer playing favorites. Some days he would spend time with Lily, and she would show him the dances she was learning in her ballet class. Other days, he would throw a baseball to Tom, who preferred that to football, Sam's favorite sport. With Noah, he would read the little boy's favorite story: Dr. Seuss' "And To Think That I saw It On Mulberry Street."

Things were much better with Kate, too. She smiled more, laughed. Now that he wasn't working anymore, they spent much more time together. When he went out each morning before any of them woke up, she would always have a cup of coffee brewed for him by the time they got back, and they would sit at the kitchen table talking, sometimes going to their children's rooms, if only to peek inside at their sleeping angels.

The summer drew to a close and autumn rolled around. Lily would be eight soon, beginning third grade, and the twins were starting first. They kept Noah home, preferring to teach him themselves, rather than risk an accident at a preschool. They planned to at least home school him until middle school. That was a long time from now, though, and they would address that when it came up.

One early Sunday morning, after his jog, he sat with Kate at the kitchen table. She wound a strand of her hair around her finger, watching him pensively. He raised his mug to drink, then peered over the top at her, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" He asked curiously, setting the cup down gently. She shook her head, smiling.

"Just thinking how happy you look now. I've never seen you so happy."

He grinned and shook his head. "'To be happy is to be contented in your own mind.'"

"You a philosopher now?"

"Just a quote I heard from someplace. I just remembered it."

"It's true, though," she said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "I couldn't imagine us last year like this. We have a routine."

"We have a family," he added, smiling. "I'm happy."

"You're content," she put in, grinning at her own form of a joke. He couldn't help leaning in to kiss her softly, missing this kind of intimacy in the previous months, when their marriage had been under so much strain. She pulled on his hand, nodding toward their bedroom. It would be a while before any of their children were awake, and he figured, after all they'd been through, he deserved this.


End file.
